


On Stranger Tides

by Lecrit



Series: A Pirate's Life For Me [2]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: (or it wouldn't be one of my fics), Alternate Universe - Pirate, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angst, Blood and Torture, Character Death, Don't Let Yourself Be Fooled By The Fluff At The Beginning, Emotional Sex, Game of Thrones-esque, I'm not kidding, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pirates, Pirates Saving the Day, Prince!Alec, Royalty, Shameless Innuendos, Smut, Torture, angsty angst, like real angst, pirate!magnus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-04
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-10-14 13:24:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 53,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10537392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lecrit/pseuds/Lecrit
Summary: Alec kissed him like he had the first time, desperately, but tenderly, with all the rashness of a man in love.It was Magnus who pulled back, thumb gently brushing over Alec’s cheekbone.“I’m going to miss this,” he said, voice pitched low, “when we get back to Alicante.”“As will I,” Alec allowed, bowing his head to rest his forehead against Magnus’. “But I know we can show them how it’s done, you and I.”As long as he had this, the unconditional love of an extraordinary man, the gift of his passion behind closed doors and the tenderness of his eyes in the secrecy of his mind, as long as there was their burning bodies melting together to express what words couldn’t, Alec didn’t need to worry.What was the worst that could happen?This is a sequel to Dead Men Tell No Tales, but it can be read individually.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Everydayfandom (Keicchan)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keicchan/gifts).
  * Translation into Español available: [On Stranger Tides (Traducción)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14202594) by [loove1995](https://archiveofourown.org/users/loove1995/pseuds/loove1995)



> Hello cupcakes,
> 
> First, this is the result of my wife [Ketz](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ketz/) visiting me in Paris a few weeks ago and us plotting while taking a (relative) sunbath in the Jardin du Luxembourg. If you're not reading her beautiful works already, you should. Thank you babe, this would be an absolute disaster if it weren't for you.
> 
> Secondly, a huge thank you to my most precious beta [Pravs](https://twitter.com/magnusbake) and to my child [Mathilde](https://twitter.com/noksindra) for their help and support.
> 
> Third, and most importantly: I wasn't supposed to write this before I'm finished with my other ongoing fics but (almost, because I'm early because life) today is a great day so... This is a gift to [Acerina](https://twitter.com/everydayfandom), who was the first person I befriended in this fandom and has been one of the main reasons why this whole experience has been so enjoyable for me. Ace, thank you for your indefectible support, your daily kindness and your characteristic goofiness that makes me laugh on a daily basis. I love you, and I know I'm terrible at showing it, even more at saying it, but my life has been just that much better ever since we started freaking out about our stupidly in love boys together. Thank you for everything, and happy birthday. I hope you enjoy that little thing I concocted for you and that you get all the happiness you deserve this year and all the following ones. Please stay your amazing, encouraging, clumsy, lovable self forever. I love you just the way you are. ❤
> 
> I'll leave you to it before I get emotional and shit.
> 
> Also, this was supposed to be a one shot but as usual... I have no chill. Oopsie.
> 
> Happy reading!
> 
> Ps: as always, #lecrit if you want to live-tweet and yell at me.  
> Ps2: The angst is going to be strong with this one. Like, heavy, awful, terrible angst. You've been warned.

The clucking sound of steel meeting steel broke through the blustery wind, and Alec ducked to avoid the whip of his brother’s sword. He held his blade tight but even in his rugged fingers, a perfect balance to his posture, just as Hodge had taught him all those years ago. He had stalled the strike easily, so the smirk that grew on Jace’s lips only prompted a spur of confusion, his brows furrowing.

“You’re distracted,” Jace quipped, and Alec’s blade shivered under the compelling strength of his next strike.

He took a step back to dodge another one, and rolled his eyes when his brother wiggled his eyebrows playfully, exuding arrogance.

Alec’s sword, skillfully adorned with gems and the blazon of the royal family, flashed with the sunlight as he bolted forward. “Which will only make it all the more shameful for you when I get you on your sorry ass,” he fired back.

Jace chuckled, tugging his sweaty hair away from his eyes with his free hand. “Is it love that leaves you so preoccupied, brother?” he taunted. “Am I not enough to entertain you anymore?”

Alec snorted, their blades clashing together as he averted another blow. Jace was a skilled fighter, perhaps the best one Alec had ever seen, but he knew it too well, and was unbearably arrogant about it. He talked too much, too, but that was only because he knew how distracting it could be to his opponent. Alec had grown up with him, however, and he had long mastered the art of tuning him out completely.

“Is it jealousy I hear in your voice?” Alec sneered. “You do know Magnus and you do not have to compete for my affections, right?”

A pang of surprise flashed through Jace’s eyes as he barely dodged from a strike from Alec, but he quickly recovered, confidence replacing it in the spur of a second.

“Not the same kind of affection, that’s for sure,” Jace retorted, and paused, feigning deep reflection. “Well, you did have that crush on me when we were teenagers.”

“Teenagers aren’t known for the brightness of their minds,” Alec countered, almost losing his balance on the steps that led to the main deck where Jace had somehow managed to back him out. “I know better now.”

“As I said,” Jace drawled, a smug grin spreading on his face as he pointed with his chin at the steps that had Alec cornered. “Distracted. You can’t keep your mind off Magnus long enough to put up a fight.”

Alec darted a look behind his brother, and a smirk grew on his lips to match Jace’s. “It’s like he’s everywhere,” he said benevolently.

He watched, unable to hide his delight, as Jace was swept off his feet, landing heavily on his back, shock written all over his features.

Magnus stood above him and kicked the blade out of his reach, his hands on his hips as he sent a wink to Jace.

“That’s cheating!” Jace protested once he had recovered from his previous shock.

“Only if you have witnesses,” Magnus retorted, and he turned a playful look to Alec.

He shrugged. “I didn’t see anything.”

“I liked you better when you had a crush on me,” Jace groaned, accepting the hand Magnus held out to pull him back to his feet. “Pirate,” he grumbled, but it didn’t hold an ounce of reproach.

“Thank you,” Magnus replied, amusement flickering in his eyes. “We’re about three hours away from Island Dumort now, darling,” he added, gaze drifting to Alec. “The crew is starting to get agitated.”

Although Alec could relate on the enthusiasm, he knew their reasons were drastically different.

Island Dumort was infamous for its debauchery, its utter disregard towards what was commonly accepted as moral and virtuous and all in all, according to Magnus, its madness, an explosive cocktail of freedom and recklessness.

Alec had never been there before, nor had any member of the Royal family of Idris in a long time, but it was the last step of the diplomatic mission he had been engaged in for a year. That was where his enthusiasm came from, rather than the prospect of a couple of nights of shameless self-indulgence.

Island Dumort was one step closer to going home, to his siblings, Isabelle’s fierce stubbornness, Max’ sharp mind, and to his parents, his mother’s fond exasperation and his father, his King, the one who had allowed him to leave on this mission with Magnus, knowing that he was both a pirate and a lover, without batting an eye - or only reasonably so. He even looked forward to seeing Clary again, although he would never tell her that.

Their year of travelling had been incredible, enough to quench Alec’s wanderlust for a while. It had been even more satisfying that Magnus had been by his side, alongside Jace, his adoptive brother and best friend. They had travelled across the realm, discovered the variety of cultures that composed the world Alec would rule one day, tasted food they had never tasted, heard music they had never heard, seen breathtaking landscapes and the skills of mankind in physical constructions and philosophical ones.

It had all been wonderful, but Alec was glad to go home, at last, knowing that the Clave trials were over and Magnus could step foot in the capital Alicante as a free man, bearing of pirate only the mark burned on his wrist.

Alec leaned against the railing of the main deck, covering his eyes to protect them from the blazing sun, watching the endless water looking over the horizon, and the faintest hint of land spreading in a thin line.

Magnus came to stand by his side, resting his hands aside Alec’s but not touching him.

There was no doubt among the men that composed their crew on the nature of their relationship and they both knew it. When they had first taken the sea, their love had been burgeoning, and they had had a hard time keeping their hands off each other at night, and to restrain from sharing long, heartfelt glances at day. With time, they had been better at bottling it, although their feelings had only grown.

Alec had accepted fairly quickly that there was no coming back from a love like the one he shared with Magnus. He knew it in the very core of his soul, had let it consume him without much of a fight, and regretted nothing as long as Magnus felt the same, and he knew that he did.

Nevertheless, they tried to refrain from publicly displaying their affection, firstly because it would have been frowned upon, or completely forbidden in some of the various territories they had visited, but also because they were both aware that it was a luxury that would not be granted to them once they were back in Alicante, not when Alec was to become king one day.

It was a combat they would have to fight, another, but Alec was ready for this battle as long as Magnus was as well, and Magnus was never one to back down from a challenge, especially one that would involve dismantling a few laws based on ignorance, as traditional as they were.

Magnus leaned forward, resting his elbows on the railing, and turned his head to look at him. Alec met his eyes without hesitation, and he smiled, small and private, for Magnus and the sea only to witness. Magnus smiled back immediately, the serenity in his eyes enough to ease the tension in Alec’s shoulders.

They stayed like this for a while, watching the line of the horizon get closer and closer, until they could start to distinguish an actual town out of the indefinite shape it had been. Then, they retreated back to the royal cabin.

Alec waited until he had closed the door behind them to grab on Magnus’ hips, pushing him against the door and covering his surprised gasp with his lips. Magnus made a pleased noise at the back of his throat, his fingers reaching up to tangle in Alec’s messy locks.

Alec kissed him like he had the first time, desperately, but tenderly, with all the rashness of a man in love.

It was Magnus who pulled back, thumb gently brushing over Alec’s cheekbone.

“I’m going to miss this,” he said, voice pitched low, “when we get back to Alicante.”

“As will I,” Alec allowed, bowing his head to rest his forehead against Magnus’. “But I know we can show them how it’s done, you and I.”

Magnus smirked, tugging on Alec’s hair just enough to catch his attention,  _ all _ of his attention. “I like the way you think, Your Royal Highness.”

“You’ll like it even more when you know what I’m thinking about right now, pirate,” Alec replied in a whisper, tightening his grip on Magnus’ hips to pull him with him as he walked backwards toward the bed.

“How about you show me?” Magnus purred, something shifting in his eyes that sent a wave of shivers down Alec’s spine.

Magnus’ hands rested flat on his chest for a moment before they pushed lightly, and Alec let himself fall down on the mattress willingly, grinning up at his lover as he climbed onto the bed to join him and straddled his thighs.

Leaning on one of his elbows, Alec reached out to cup Magnus’ neck into his hand, bringing him down to fold their lips together again, always craving for the taste of him, for the smell of the sea that seemed to follow him, meddling with a hint of citrus and sandalwood to form one that belonged to Magnus only.

As long as he had this, the unconditional love of an extraordinary man, the gift of his passion behind closed doors and the tenderness of his eyes in the secrecy of his mind, as long as there was their burning bodies melting together to express what words couldn’t, Alec didn’t need to worry.

What was the worst that could happen?

.

Island Dumort was not as Alec had imagined it. It was way worse.

The streets were dirty, scattered with garbage and men and women sleeping off one too many drinks. There were a few loose horses trotting in the streets, either abandoned or lost to their owners who had wandered off in their pursuit of a good night.

A putrid smell attacked his nostrils as soon as they moored the royal ship to the makeshift wooden planks they called a port, and he scrunched his nose up in disgust, casting a wary look to Magnus, who only chuckled in answer.

“Welcome to Island Dumort, my love,” he said, a teasing smile on his lips, still shining from the activities they had engaged in in the royal cabin. “Where the lost souls of Idris come to escape from every law and rule set by mankind.”

Alec nodded. “I’ll have to talk about this with my father,” he said, brows furrowed in a stern frown.

He had changed into informal clothes, because according to Ragnor, Magnus’ friend and an expert in all cultures throughout the realms, if he had been relatively safe in the wild lands of Edom, they wouldn’t be here, where any form of authority was prone to end up in a fight. He felt comfortable, though, more so than he did in his usual Navy uniform, heavy with medals of valor and the decorations that displayed his rank and inheritage.

“On the good side,” Magnus added, leaning in to whisper against his ear, eyes flashing with mischief, “the absence of laws also means no one will pay attention to two men being a little too close for what Idris would call decency.”

Alec’s lips jumped with a pleased smile, but he quickly composed his features, although not quickly enough for Magnus to miss it.

“I guess it isn’t too bad, then,” he admitted, sending him a conniving glance.

The old inn they settled in with the men was, Ragnor had assured him, the most appropriate one on the island. Alec shuddered at the thought of what the worst ones had to be like.

The inn was hundreds of conversations howled in loud voices, in what seemed to be a competition to whom would be the loudest, and who would manage to compete in level with the traditional music played by a string band performing on a cheap stage in a corner. The crowd was a variety of men and women, and a look at a few of their wrists was enough for Alec to know most of them were pirates, or something close enough. If they didn’t bear the mark, it was probably for the sole reason that they hadn’t been caught yet.

They wended their way through the warm - and smelly - bodies to find a table at the back of the room, and Alec tried not to make his apprehension too obvious when a tankard of a dark, odd-looking beer was slammed in front of him by an unfriendly bartender who gave them suspicious looks. Alec tried not to appear too offended at being the one scrutinized with profound distrust when the man had a scar baring his face from his forehead to his mouth and one of those patches to hide his left eye he had thought existed only in legends and myths.

“These people are savages,” Jace breathed out next to him, eyes riveted on a woman sitting at a table a few feet away from them, who was in the process of annihilating every single man in the inn in an armwrestling contest. “I love it!” he proclaimed cheerfully, promptly downing what was left of his beer.

Alec chuckled and allowed himself to relax in his seat, taking a sip of his own drink. It wasn’t half as bad as he had imagined, although it did leave on his palate a weird aftertaste that he didn’t want to ponder on.

Magnus seemed completely in his element here. A few of the felons even stopped to blink at him, as if not believing he was actually here, but they simply nodded at him, almost bowing in respect, before ushering off.

Alec smirked as one of them, a tall, bulky man with broad shoulders and arms covered with greyish tattoos, almost tripped on his feet as he spotted Magnus sitting there, sprawled on his chair in all his devilish elegance, and sputtered out an apology before rushing outside.

Jace and Alec both watched him leave in mixtures of awe and amusement.

“Are you like the king of pirates or something?” Jace asked, eyebrow curved in interest.

Magnus’ lips curled into a smirk, a ring-clad finger dancing on the hem of his glass. “I’m almost offended you would doubt that,” he quipped, only to cackle at the bewildered look on Jace’s face. “They think I have magical powers,” he added, more seriously. “They fear me.”

“Why would they think that?” Alec asked bemusedly. “Not that you aren’t positively magical, dearest, but I’m afraid it’s not in the way they believe.”

“Ugh,” Jace groaned. “I can’t wait for this trip to be over so I don’t have to hear this twenty times a day.”

Magnus scoffed, dismissing Jace’s comment with a wave of his fingers. “Green doesn’t suit you, Lord Jonathan,” he taunted, and Jace rolled his eyes at the title. “Remember when I told you how Camille marooned me and organized a mutiny to steal my ship and left me on that island where we met?” he asked, eyes finding Alec’s again.

Alec nodded, unable to conceal a smile at the memory. It wasn’t the most conventional way to meet the love of his life, he supposed, but there was nothing conventional about either Magnus or their relationship, so it was fitting.

“Well, there were already rumors before that that I had magical powers, but when they learned that I managed to escape from the island unscathered and alive, the rumors only grew stronger.”

“And I’m sure you did everything in your power to let the truth be known,” Jace retorted, deadpan. “That we actually rescued you because you were stuck on that island with the future king.”

“Why, Jonathan, where would be the fun in that?” Magnus quipped in false affront.

Jace snorted, but didn’t have the time to reply because a man crashed in a seat in front of them in a clamor, with enough force that the men around Alec all immediately reached out for their swords or various weapons, ready to defend their prince if need be.

The man’s face was covered by a hood but when he tilted his head up and Alec caught his eyes, his breath hitched in his throat and he rose a hand to signal to his men to put away their blades. They complied immediately, although Alaric, the commodore of the royal ship and one of Alec’s most loyal men, kept his hand firmly tucked on the sheath of his sword.

“Hodge?” Alec breathed out, frowning.

The man pulled his hood off, messy blond locks falling into the deep blue of his eyes, and gave him a stern nod.

“Your Majesty,” Hodge said in a low voice, eyes grave as they settled on him. “We need to talk.”

Alec frowned, a creeping terror suddenly swirling in his stomach. “What do you mean ‘Your Majesty’?” he muttered back. “This is not how you are supposed to address me.”

“It is now,” Hodge replied, an apologetic spark flickering in his gaze. “The King is dead, Your Majesty.”

.

The way back to the ship was made in solemn silence, but Magnus didn’t know if it was out of respect for the King’s death, or because of the shock that came with the news.

Alec walked in front of him, the so-called Hodge at his side, and his shoulders were slouched with the weight of loss already, but also with the responsibilities that had fallen upon him with that simple sentence.

“The King is dead. Long live the King,” Ragnor muttered next to him, his gaze also on Alec.

“Who is he?” Magnus asked in lieu of an answer, pointing with a jerk of his chin at Hodge, whose face was hidden by his hood once more. “Where did he come from? How did he know where to find us?”

“I know I am the most intelligent man you know,” Ragnor replied nonchalantly, “which isn’t that difficult among us pirates, mind you, but I do not know everything.”

Magnus heaved out an exaggerated sigh, patting his friend’s back. “Pretty sure  _ I _ am the most intelligent man I know, my friend,” he retorted, “but I understand your sentiment.”

Ragnor rolled his eyes and slowed down slightly, prompting Magnus to do the same. “King Alexander seems to consider him trustworthy. Why don’t you?”

Magnus pulled a face at the name, but didn’t comment on it. It was too fresh, and it would probably take a while for him to realize it was how people would address Alec from now on, if his father had indeed died like this stranger claimed he had.

“Ragnor, I love him with all my heart, but Alec tends to think with his heart rather than his head when it comes to the people he loves,” Magnus said softly, and he heard himself the tenderness edging his own words. “He is too loyal to see the wrong in them.”

“That would explain why he seems to think you are perfect,” Ragnor retorted, chuckling at the murderous glare Magnus threw his way. “Don’t you worry too much, my friend,” he added once his mirth had simmered down. “We will figure it out soon enough.”

Magnus pushed his lips together, a bad feeling of wariness still twisting his stomach, and nodded.

All the lights in the ship were out but those of the torches of the men keeping watch when they climbed in, and Alec dispersed his men on the main deck before guiding Hodge, Alaric, Ragnor, Jace and Magnus to the royal cabin. There, he slouched in an armchair, pinching the bridge of his nose, and Magnus’ heart clenched at the sight.

He sighed, and walked to the liquor cabinet to pour them all glasses of a fine whiskey they had received as a gift from one of the many lands they had visited. He picked up two of them, gesturing for the other men to help themselves, and strode his way to stand next to Alec, setting the glass in front of him.

“Thank you,” Alec murmured, grabbing Magnus’ hand as he went to withdraw it to press a light kiss against his palm.

Magnus smiled down at him, letting his fingers linger on the bridge of his ear in a gentle gesture that he hoped comforting. Alec smiled back, if scarcely, and took a quick sip of his drink before crossing his arms over his chest, his face a mask of solemnity.

Magnus leaned his hip against the side of Alec’s armchair, one of his arm wrapping against the back, fingers hanging right above the ebony mess hair, while his other hand held his glass firmly against his chest, his eyes scrutinising the features of the man that was still a stranger to him.

“Hodge,” Alec said, voice deep and gravelly. The man’s blue eyes shot up to meet his, darting for a moment to Magnus before they focused on Alec again. He seemed a bit bewildered to have Magnus stay exactly where he was by Alec’s side, but the only way Magnus would move would be if Alec asked him to, if he made him uncomfortable, and it didn’t seem to be the case if the way he leaned a little closer to him was any indication. “Talk,” Alec demanded.

Hodge frowned, his gaze lost into space for a moment as if gathering his thoughts, and when he looked up again, his face was a mirror of atonement.

“The Queen is dead too. It was Morgenstern,” he said with devastating simplicity, and a collective gasp echoed through the room.

Magnus frowned. “Valentine Morgenstern is dead,” he said, acid wedging every word. “We didn’t have much correspondence with the kingdom through the year but we know that much. He’s been executed for treason.”

“Valentine is dead, yes,” Hodge replied. “There is still one Morgenstern left.”

“Sebastian,” Jace gritted out through clenched teeth. “Did that bastard kill Robert and Maryse?”

His bicolored eyes were flashing with wrath, but also the pain of losing the only parental figures he had ever had.

On a stormy night of summer during their trip, while Alec had gone with Ragnor to be greeted by the lord of the land they had dropped the anchor in for a couple of weeks, Jace and he had talked about his childhood within the royal family, how King Robert had been a childhood friend of his biological father himself, had made him a knight in the court after his coronation, and how he had adopted him when his parents had died in what the Clave had called an accident at the time, although the trials had tended towards another explanation. Lord William had gone against Valentine Morgenstern and threatened to divulge his corrupted ways to the king, coincidentally dying before he could. Jace had talked about his adoptive parents with fondness, and a hint of sorrow when he recalled his biological ones, and it was obvious, right then, that the loss had hit him as hard as it had Alec.

“Yes,” Hodge said, “but it’s not all that he did. He took over the throne.”

The room would have plunged into an endless silence if it wasn’t for Jace booming a loud, “What?”

“He and a few members of the Clave that hadn’t been arrested yet bursted into the castle one night about a month ago,” he told them, taking a long sip of his drink. “General Aldertree was with him, he betrayed King Robert. They killed the guards, and then walked to your parents’ chambers to kill them too.”

“Isabelle and Max,” Alec breathed out, dread dripping from his voice, his already pale skin blanching even more. “Are they…”

He didn’t finish, swallowing hard instead.

Hodge shook his head, and Magnus heaved out a sigh of relief in perfect unison with Alec and Jace.

“I managed to stop him and his men when they headed to your brother and sister’s quarters,” he said. “I told him it would be a token of his good faith to the people.”

“Good faith?” Magnus echoed with a wry laugh. “He killed their sovereigns.”

“He made it seem like he was doing them a favor,” Hodge sighed, his frown deepening. “The next morning, he talked to the people from the royal balcony. Told them that King Robert was corrupted and that he had manipulated the evidence against the members of the Clave to have a legal excuse to execute the ones who were trying to stop him. Sebastian said he had gone to the castle with General Aldertree to talk to him and that Robert had attacked them, so they had to kill him to defend themselves.”

“And Mother just happened to walk into their sword?” Alec spat out bitterly.

“He said she had attacked them out of rage when she saw Robert was dead,” Hodge explained carefully. “The people loved your parents, Your Majesty, but they are quick to believe a charismatic man if he knows how to point their eyes in the direction he intends to.”

Hodge seemed to hesitate for a moment, his eyes darting to Magnus for a moment before settling back on Alec. Magnus cocked an eyebrow, but kept his mouth shut.

“Sebastian also used him as an excuse,” Hodge said, gesturing vaguely to Magnus over Alec’s shoulder. “He used the fact that the king had allowed you to free a pirate and made him an emissary in your diplomatic mission across the realm to justify his accusations of corruption.”

Alec pinched the bridge of his nose, shutting his eyes tight as he rubbed his free hand on his temples, undoubtedly attempting to chase a headache. “Isabelle and Max,” he repeated lowly.

“They are prisoners in the castle,” Hodge said, sternly. “They are free to walk around but forbidden to leave. Lady Clary keeps your sister company, and your brother is being well treated, I can assure you that. I managed to convince Sebastian that killing them would anger the people and that they were more useful to him alive. He believed me.”

“Is that so?” Magnus snarled, lips pulled into a tight line. “He seems to listen to you a lot, that Sebastian,” he growled. “Care to explain that?”

“Hodge is the personal  trainer in weaponry and hand-to-hand combat of all the noble children in the castle,” Jace answered for him. “We all know him since childhood, including Sebastian, and we all trust him.”

“You trust him, but you clearly don’t trust his loyalty if Sebastian went to him for advice to overthrow the king,” Magnus stated, ruthless. “Why are you here? And how did you even find us?”

“I don’t answer to a pirate,” Hodge retorted through clenched teeth, sending him a vicious glare.

“No, but you answer to me,” Alec said coldly, and Magnus could already see the king in his posture, in the squareness of his jaw and the tight line of his shoulders. “And I would very much like to know, too.”

Hodge heaved out a deep sigh. “Sebastian sent me to capture you and bring you back to him,” he admitted, his hands jolting on both sides of his head when he saw both Magnus and Alaric reach out for their weapons. “Come on!” he exclaimed. “Do you think I would have told you if I intended to do it?”

“Why does Sebastian trust you?” Magnus asked placidly.

“Because I took part in his father’s corruption, before the Clave trials,” he blurted out finally, regret flashing in his deep blue eyes. “I helped him blackmail witnesses a few times, in exchange for money.”

Alec’s jaw flexed with rage. “And you have the nerve to show your face before me and ask for me to trust you.”

“Look, if you don’t listen to me, maybe you will listen to someone else,” Hodge said.

He lowered one of his hands to slide it inside his jacket but before he could move again, Magnus had his blade hovering under his chin, brushing over the tensed skin of his throat.

“It’s a letter,” Hodge groaned irritably. “From Isabelle.”

“And we’re supposed to trust she’s actually the one who wrote it?” Magnus hissed. “Because you betrayed not only one, but two of your so-called sovereigns, so pardon me for doubting your word, Puny Lord.”

Hodge ignored him completely, focusing on Alec instead. “She said you would know it was from her.”

Something like hope flashed in Alec’s eyes, and Magnus lowered his weapon before he even had to ask. He held a hand out and Hodge produced an envelope in slow, measured movements, casting wary looks between Magnus and Alaric on both sides of him.

Alec plucked the letter out of his hand carefully, scrutinising the paper like it was the most valuable of treasures. “It’s our seal,” he said softly, but no one answered. Quickly, his fingers opened the envelope and Magnus watched as his hazel eyes read the words in a hurry, realization dawning on his features like a guillotine blade on a condemned soul.

“It’s her,” Alec sighed when he was done.

“How do you know?” Jace asked, brow furrowed in worry.

“Jessica Hawkblue,” Alec breathed out. “In the letter, she says she is with her good friend Jessica Hawkblue. There is no Jessica Hawkblue. It’s a secret code between us, if one of us is in trouble and needs help. She always used it when she needed me to help her sneak out of the castle to visit a potential suitor.”

“She gave me the letter because I visited her before I left on the mission Sebastian had assigned me,” Hodge said. “I never intended to kill you in the first place, but there was a  chance you might not trust me. She came out with the idea.”

“She says I should trust you,” Alec admitted, rattling the letter in his hand. “And sneaking her out of the castle is not a question of eloping with a suitor now, their survival depends on it.”

He was obviously pondering on what to do, the struggle written plainly on his features and Magnus wanted to reach out and take his hand, but he refrained himself.

“What happened to my father’s knights?” Alec asked, his shoulders sagging with exhaustion a little, but only an eye as acute as Magnus’ upon his every quirk and little habits would have been able to notice it.

“Imprisoned,” Hodge replied. “All of them. As are the members of the new Clave your father had appointed to go through the old one’s trials. Sir Luke almost managed to escape but Sebastian’s men caught him right at the edge of the city and he is in jail too.”

“Why did Sebastian ask you to capture me instead of killing me on sight?” Alec inquired again. 

Despite the overwhelming flow of information he had had to deal within the past minutes, Magnus was stunned to see how composed his features were, how his sharp mind managed to conjure the right question at the right time. He had never questioned it before, but right then there wasn’t an ounce of doubt left that Alec was the right and lawful King of Idris.

“Because he hates you,” Hodge said. When Alec curved a confused eyebrow, he continued, “and you,” he added, pointing a finger at Magnus. “His father was executed because of you.”

“Valentine was executed because he was corrupted and he betrayed the Crown,” Alec argued, arms crossed over his chest.

“Because  _ you _ exposed him,” Hodge fired back pointedly. “In front of the whole court and a part of the people. You humiliated him and his name.”

“And I would do it again,” Alec replied sternly. “They were going to kill Magnus for something he hadn’t done!”

“To be fair, I did do it,” Magnus chimed in, earning himself two heated glares. “What? It’s true! I did kill Asmodeus. They just forgot to mention I was defending myself and he was the one who attacked me.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Hodge said with a sigh, shaking his head. “Sebastian wants you alive, and I’m pretty sure it’s not to have a friendly chat with you. He wants to make you suffer.”

“Yes, because killing my parents and holding my siblings hostage isn’t achieving that,” Alec growled.

Magnus couldn't restrain himself this time and he reached out to rest a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently in comfort. Alec leaned into the touch, heaving.

“We have to get to Alicante as soon as possible,” Alec said, earning an approving nod from Jace.

“You can't go back with the Royal Navy,” Hodge argued. “Sebastian will be expecting you and he will have you arrested as soon as you step foot on land.”

Alec sighed again, scratching at the scar on his eyebrow in frustration. “Then we will leave it here and take another ship.”

“It will be just as suspicious if the royal ship doesn't arrived as planned,” Ragnor chimed in. It was the first time he spoke ever since they had locked themselves in the cabin, and his voice was a welcome change, calm and unwavering in the conundrum they had just taken in. “You are set to arrive on land in four days, and a delay of a couple of days would be considered normal, but no more.”

Alec nodded, taking another long sip of whiskey. He grimaced at the taste, but seemed to revel in the burn of alcohol down his throat.

“What do you suggest?” he asked.

“We need to find another mean to get to Alicante,” Ragnor replied. “On a smaller ship that wouldn't raise suspicion. Perhaps a merchandise one. Something that would let us arrive before the royal ship does, because once it is back in Alicante and they see you aren't on board, they will start looking for you actively.”

Alec hummed in acknowledgment. “We will do that, then. Alaric, you will take the ship back to Alicante.”

“I will not leave my King behind,” Alaric protested.

“You will,” Alec said, in a sharp voice that left no room for negotiation, “because your King is ordering you to.”

“Your Majesty -”

“You will tell them we were ambushed by a man in Island Dumort,” Alec cut in abruptly. “That I was attacked by a swordsman.” He gestured vaguely to Hodge. “You only saw his blond hair. You tried to rescue me but I told you to leave me and bring back the ship to port, for we carry valuable merchandise from places all across the realms that belong in Alicante. I gave you an order, and you obeyed, thinking you would be allowed to go back to look for me with another ship once in Alicante.”

Alaric looked like the mere thought of it was tearing him apart, but he nodded, squaring his jaw.

“We will already be in Alicante by then,” Alec continued. “I will know how to seek your help if the need raises then.”

Alaric acquiesced again, but just as grudgingly.

“We will need to hide in the time being to form a plan of action,” Jace chimed in, a fierce determination burning in his eyes. “Any harsh move could put Izzy and Max in danger.”

“What do you think?” Alec asked, and it took Magnus a moment to realize he was asking him.

“I think I will be by your side for whatever you need me to do,” Magnus said softly. “Let's get your throne and your siblings back, my darling.”

Alec gave him a small smile, blinking up at him. “Any contact of yours on this dreadful island who could help us sneak into Alicante unseen?”

“Unfortunately, I think I know just the right person,” Magnus sighed. “But I can’t say I’m thrilled to see her, and I’m pretty sure you won’t be either.”

.

To say Alec wasn’t thrilled was a big understatement.

It took Ragnor only a couple of hours to locate Camille on the island, his little whisperers working their magic quicker than ever. She was apparently staying in one of the hotels nearest to the beach, but Magnus assured them that she never stopped in the same place for too long, so they wasted no time and packed immediately.

When his bag was firmly close, Alec sat on the bed, following with his eyes Magnus, who was moving around quickly to gather his stuff, muttering under his breath as he enumerated everything.

Alec smiled faintly, and pulled his sword out of its sheath, setting it flat into his hands as he observed the blade, forged by the most proficient blacksmiths in all the realm, shining under the candle light, the gems adorning the handle and guard of the sword glimmering.

It was a king’s sword, Alec thought bitterly. His father had it forged for him when Alec had turned sixteen. It was king’s sword, but Alec was no king.

“Darling, are you alright?”

Alec blinked away from the blade and up to Magnus, who was standing in front of him, brow furrowed in concern.

“I’m leaving the sword here,” he said in a lieu of an answer. “I’ll just take a regular one and my bow and quiver.”

“Why?” Magnus asked, taking a cautious step closer. “You love that sword.”

Alec shook his head. “I don’t deserve to use it,” he muttered, “not as long as there is an usurper sitting on my throne.”

He threw the sword aside carelessly, and it fell on the mattress with a dull sound.

“Of course you deserve it,” Magnus said softly. He took a step closer, his fingers carding through Alec’s hair to massage his skull gently. Alec swallowed past the lump in his throat and reached out to tug him closer, burying his face against Magnus’ stomach, arms wrapped around him.

“I should have been there,” Alec murmured, tears burning behind his closed eyelids.

One of Magnus’ hands stayed in his hair, the other drifting lower to dig into the tense lines at the nape of his neck and in his shoulders.

“You couldn’t have known, Alexander,” he said. “It’s not your fault.” He bent down to press a kiss against his head, before pulling just slightly at his hair to prop Alec’s face up, forcing their gazes together.

Alec rested his chin against Magnus’ stomach, blinking away the dampness in his eyes.

Magnus gave him a small smile, thumb brushing against his cheek. “We’ll get your siblings and your throne back, my love,” he pledged again, but it somehow held much more meaning now that it was just the two of them, “and you will be the greatest king Idris has ever seen. They will write poems and songs about you. They will chant how remarkable you are and I will pretend I wasn’t the first one to see the exact extend of your grandeur.”

Alec blushed, a humble smile curling at the corner of his lips. “I can’t figure out if that was an innuendo or not,” he murmured.

Magnus chuckled, and winked down at him, his thumb brushing against Alec’s lips playfully. “Have you met me?”

Alec’s smile was genuine this time and he used his hold on Magnus’ waist to bring him down, kissing him full on the mouth. Magnus hummed in content against him, cupping his face between his hands, and parted his lips to deepen the kiss. Alec wondered if his mind would ever stop staggering whenever Magnus kissed him like this, fiery and passionate.

Magnus was just starting to lean further into him, one of his knee folding on the bed next to Alec, when the door of the cabin opened with a clamor. They pulled back hastily and turned in a same movement towards the intruder.

Jace rolled his eyes. “I knew it,” he said, in a fondly exasperated tone. “Please tell me you’re at least done packing and you didn’t just spend an hour making out.”

“I just need to grab a sword and I’ll be good to go,” Alec said.

“And I need a bottle of rum if I’m going to endure Camille’s presence without killing her on sight,” Magnus grumbled.

“As if you ever needed an excuse to drink rum,” Jace retorted over his shoulder, already turning back. “We leave in ten minutes.”

Once the door shut again, Alec tugged on Magnus’ waist until he was straddling his legs, his own hands finding their way to his thighs, stroking softly.

“Are you sure you’re okay with dealing with Camille?” he asked softly.

“Hey, it’s not everyday that you have the opportunity to show up in front of your evil ex and throw to her face that you’re fucking a king,” Magnus retorted playfully, wiggling his eyebrows.

Alec gasped in false affront. “Is that all I am to you?” he exclaimed. “A prize to show off?”

“That’s just a bonus,” Magnus taunted, leaning in to peck his lips lightly. Catching Alec’s deadpan expression as he pulled back, he sighed. “I can deal with Camille, my love. I could even face my father if it was for you.”

Alec’s eyes softened at once. “Your father is dead.”

“That would make for an awkward encounter indeed,” Magnus said.

Alec chuckled, and kissed him again. “Thank you.”

“You’re very much welcome, my darling,” Magnus replied at once, his face a mask of tenderness. “Now we should go before your brother barges in again.”

Alec nodded. “Let’s go face that evil ex of yours.”

.

Camille Belcourt was a beautiful woman, with deep brown eyes and brown hair that tumbled over her shoulders in elegant waves. She wore a red corset with a pair of black pants that hugged her long legs flawlessly, revealing a deep cleavage enhanced by a stunning necklace adorned with a ruby like Alec had only seen on the wealthiest women in his father’s court. Where they exuded the arrogance of the rich, however, Camille held a grace to her every move that screamed of malice, and the wicked smirk on her blood-painted lips only served to endorse that impression.

“Magnus,” she purred when they walked in, her eyes skimming over him unabashedly. “What a pleasant surprise! It’s so great to see you, my love.”

Alec hated her immediately.

Magnus gave her a bored glance. “I’m sure it must be a surprise, considering you left me to die on a deserted island the last time we saw each other.”

Camille laughed, a crystalline sound that made Alec clench his teeth. “Oh, I knew you would find a way to escape,” she replied with a predatory smile. “You were always quite resourceful.”

Magnus huffed in affront, but didn’t get a chance to reply, because Camille was already turning her attention to the other people in the room. Her eyes stopped on Alec for a moment and she quirked a taunting eyebrow as he stood there glaring at her.

“And who are your companions?” she crooned, her fingers moving in an elegant flourish towards them as she glanced back at Magnus.

“We need to get to Alicante,” Magnus said in lieu of an answer. “Discreetly.”

Camille hummed and her smirk grew wider. Her eyes travelled again from Magnus to Jace, Ragnor, Hodge and finally to Alec, scanning him up and down.

“So, you must be the prince,” she said.

Alec went still, but he quickly composed himself. “I’m just a quartermaster, Ma’am,” he replied.

Camille chuckled, her brown eyes lighting up with glee. “Well, you must be the first quartermaster who managed to steal a signet ring from the royal family, then,” she countered bemusedly, pointing at his hand. “And the way you say Ma’am. Oh, that’s so… aristocratic of you.”

Alec cursed inwardly, but didn’t get a chance to contradict her.

“I had heard rumors about you being involved with royalty,” Camille said, and she was speaking only to Magnus now. “But the future king? See what I meant by resourceful? I mean, bedding your way to a royal pardon? I am impressed.”

“Watch your tongue, pirate,” Jace spat, taking a step forward, “or I’ll cut it out.”

“That would be difficult for me to help you then,” Camille replied, and it took all of Alec’s self-control not to wipe the smirk out of her face.

“We need a ship to get to Alicante without being seen,” Magnus repeated, eyes dark and fists balled at his side. “Can you make it happen or not?”

“Of course I can,” Camille said, “but why would I do that?”

“Because you abandoned me on a deserted island to die and stole my ship,” Magnus snapped. “You owe me a lifetime of favors.”

“Good point,” she quipped. “But not good enough. You’re the one desperately in need for help. I mean, how is your precious prince going to rescue his family and conquer his throne back if you don’t get to Alicante?”

The silence travelled through the room with the sharpness of a winter breeze, numb with bewilderment.

“How do you know about that?” Alec hissed.

“My little birds told me,” Camille said, in a sultry voice that had Alec hold back a repelled grimace. “I even know a thing or two about a resistance that has started to form in the capital.”

Magnus winced at Alec’s side, and he could understand why. His interest was piqued now, and from the content spark that flashed into Camille’s dark eyes, she knew it too.

“What do you want?” Alec growled, wanting nothing more than to nock an arrow right into her chest.

It startled him, for a second, that a thought like this one could find its way into his usual calm and composed mind, but a cold wrath had been burning under his skin ever since Hodge had thrown bomb after bomb at his face, and the last thing he needed was his lover’s past flame playing games that could endanger the success of the mission that had fallen upon his shoulders.

If said success depended on one or two sacrifices, he supposed it was his duty to compel.

“Magnus,” she tried, mischief dancing in her eyes.

“Not happening,” Alec snapped.

Camille laughed again. “Don’t worry, Your Majesty. I was joking. I’m afraid his affections have gone elsewhere now, in a place even I can’t touch them.”

“What do you want?” Alec asked again, the irritation palpable in his tone.

Her smirk grew feral. “Now we’re talking,” she said in a low voice, leaning back in her seat. “You see, my crew and I, we travel a lot and we like to bring back goods and other... merchandises but too often we are stopped by the Royal Navy and either have to flee or fight. You could change that.”

“People are not merchandise,” Magnus snapped before Alec could think of answering. He swirled back to face him, eyes burning with an acid rage. “She brings back slaves from the South to sell them here to the wealthy lords of the North. That’s what she calls ‘other merchandises’.”

“Oh, Magnus,” Camille sighed. “You still haven’t understood the customs of business. That was what led you to a mutiny, remember?”

“What led to that mutiny was men’s greed and your lack of morals,” Magnus retorted coldly. “I was fine with all the illegal trading until you decided to upgrade it to people.”

She huffed in annoyance but otherwise ignored him, facing Alec instead.

“My father abolished slavery,” he gritted out. “I could have you, your crew and all the lords you traded with hanged.”

“Well, you certainly can’t right now,” Camille taunted. “You may be of royal blood, but a king without his crown isn’t much of a king.”

“King or not, I will not bargain on slaves,” Alec replied.

”You can’t go against centuries-old customs and traditions,” she said.

“Watch me,” Alec hissed with narrowing eyes. “I am willing to give orders to the Navy once I get my throne back to turn their eyes the other way if you transport illegal goods, but no trading of human lives. I won’t allow it.”

“What about snakes from the West lands? Their venom is worth more than slaves anyway.”

“Accorded,” Alec said, although he thought there was more than enough snakes right in this room.

Camille seemed to ponder on it for a long moment, but eventually, she nodded. “Deal,” she said cheerfully.

“Now tell us what you know,” Magnus said, arms crossed over his chest. “What resistance?”

Alec wanted to reach out, if only to lay a hand between his shoulder blades but he restrained himself, hooking his hands behind his back instead.

“Your family is quite popular,” Camille told Alec, in that eternally sulky voice of hers. “And not everyone was so eager to believe Sebastian Morgenstern’s allegations against your parents. From what I know, they are waiting on your return to take action.”

“How do we get in touch with them?” Ragnor asked, always one for practical thoughts.

“I can do that for you,” Camille replied. “I can get you on a ship and arrange for some of their members to meet you upon arrival. You will have to avoid the main port because the Navy and the royal guards in the capital are sold to General Aldertree and they will arrest you as soon as they realize who you are.”

Alec frowned. “I can hide my face.”

“You can’t hide your height,” Camille retorted, “and it is quite uncommon, enough to draw attention on you.”

“A secluded port it is,” Ragnor chimed in diplomatically. “When can we leave?”

“At dawn,” she said. “I will send my little birds right away to be sure the resistance is informed by the time you get there. It’s a day long trip back to Alicante.”

“We’ll meet you at dawn,” Alec stated, with finality.

He darted a look by the window of the room. It was dark outside, but there was already the hint of a lighter day starting to claim its rightful place. Dawn would be there quicker than they thought.

.

The captain of the ship was a stern woman with sharp features and broad shoulders. She looked the furthest thing possible from friendly but she didn’t ask any question, although it was obvious she had recognized Magnus, and that was all they truly needed.

They gave her enough money to be allowed to sleep in the officer’s quarters and apart from Jace keeping watch for the first shift, they all but collapsed in a hammock and let exhaustion tug them into sleep.

Magnus had been assigned the second watch, and Jace looked about to pass out when he woke him up to switch, so he didn’t complain. Instead, he sat at the desk, kindled by the faint light of a single candle, and as he often did, grabbed the rumpled envelope in the inside pocket of his jacket.

It was the letter that they had received while in the East lands, the one that declared Magnus a free man following the Clave trials. It was signed by Alec’s father himself and it suddenly held a deeper meaning. The signature spelled King Robert in elegant letters, the lines curving on the paper smoothly to match the meticulous nobility of the royal seal on the top of the page.

A free man. Magnus had always been a free man. He had been a pirate for many years and had never been caught but for the one time when he had received the dark P that marked his wrist. He had been with Ragnor and Catarina that day, and despite the pain of the metal burning the mark into his skin, and the devilish smirk of the commodore who had marked him, it had been a fun day. Especially said commodore’s face when he had escaped custody through a clever ruse that had involved a little bit of rope, a bottle of rum, and a lot of bravery, although Ragnor still insisted on calling it stupidity.

Even then, even through their custody and even when he had grown up in a castle with the lower class, forced to see his father, a lord, mistreat the servants and his mother in particular, Magnus had always been a free man. Therefore, he didn’t know why having the words written down and signed by the king held as much importance as it did. Perhaps to have it recognize made it official, and thus it gained meaning.

He didn’t know how long he had been staring at the words when a callous but gentle hand settled on his shoulder.

A free man he had always been, and he had prided himself with it, had worn it like an armor.

He took Alec’s hand into his own, pressing a kiss against the back.

“It’s Hodge’s turn to keep watch,” Alec murmured, pulling him to his feet. “Come back to sleep.”

Magnus nodded, and followed Alec back to the hammocks.

Being a free man in love was just that much better.

.

The trip lasted a little less than a day, which only played in their favor. The night had long fallen when they started to see the horizon of the capital taking shape. By the time they had gathered their bags and freshened up a little with the couple of buckets at their disposal, they could distinguish a couple of silhouettes standing in the little port just outside the capital that usually served only for the villagers who went fishing.

It wasn’t until they were too close to turn back around that they noticed that one of the people standing there waiting for them was wearing the Navy uniform. 

Jace was the first one to react. “Shit.”

“Fucking Camille,” Magnus growled, pulling his sword out of his sheath. “She sold us out.”

“Put your sword away,” Alec hissed. “We don’t know how many of them there are. You could get yourself killed.”

“I won’t let them arrest you,” Magnus replied heatedly.

“Nor will I!” Jace added with his characteristic verve, his sword already up in the air although the ship hadn’t quite reached the shore yet.

Alec rolled his eyes, turning an exasperated glance to Ragnor. “A little help?”

Ragnor bowed his head in his direction, before turning towards Jace and Magnus, hitting them both at the back of their heads in a swift motion.

“Let us talk to them first,” he said, ignoring the two murderous glares he was rewarded with. “We don’t know what Camille gave them in exchange for Alexander’s delivery, but we could offer them more.”

“Or they could be there to kill us all and only keep Alec alive,” Jace retorted.

“It doesn’t look like there’s more than these two,” Hodge chimed in, waving towards the two silhouettes standing on the beach.

“They could be hiding around, waiting to see if Camille told them the truth,” Magnus argued. “I swear I should have killed that damn spawn of hell as soon as I saw her. I knew we couldn’t trust her. I just thought her greed would exceed the pleasure she takes in taunting and torturing me. Oh, if I get killed, she can be sure she’s just earned herself a lifetime of being haunted.”

“Magnus,” Alec called out softly, a bemused smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “If we get killed, we’ll go haunt her together but in the time being, can we focus on finding a solution to stay alive?”

Magnus nodded, scanning their surroundings to find an escape. “How well do you swim?” he finally asked, heaving.

“Sweet talking it is,” Ragnor said.

“Just like old times,” Magnus said, a fond nostalgia edging his wariness.

The last minutes that separated them from reaching the shore were tensed ones, and Magnus stepped closer to Alec, hooking their fingers together and only letting go when the plank was lowered for them to get down the ship.

The figures were waiting there for them, but they were more than silhouettes now. The man in the uniform had dark brown hair and eyes and a tanned complexion. He seemed comfortable in the Navy clothes, enough so that Magnus knew he had been wearing it for a while despite the fact that he couldn’t have been older than twenty-five. It did nothing to tame his concern.

At his side, stood a woman with brown skin who looked just as young. She seemed fierce, her amber eyes resolutely fixed on them and her brows drawn together in determination, and Magnus was struck by the thought that she was way scarier than the man wearing the uniform and carrying a weapon.

Magnus had still his hand firmly tucked on the grip of his sword when they stopped in front of them but he let go of it, his eyes widening in shock, when the man started bowing, first in front of him, then in front of the rest of them.

“Why the hell are you bowing to all of them?” the woman hissed. Her voice was deep and rich, and it was layered with exasperation and fondness all at once.

“I don’t know which one I’m supposed to bow to,” her companion replied in a useless whisper.

Jace snorted loudly.

“That would be me,” Alec said, and although his tone was grave, Magnus knew him enough to picture the bemused smile he was holding back. “But you don’t have to bow. If you’re a Navy officer, you’re supposed to salute.”

“Right,” the man said, nodding quickly and fidgeting to slam a hand on his forehead in a poor attempt at a salute.

The woman sighed, taking a step forward. “I’m Maia,” she said. “And this is Simon. We’re from the resistance.”

“Camille actually contacted you?” Magnus asked bewilderedly. “She didn’t sell us out?”

“We received the message in the afternoon,” Maia replied and if she seemed to wonder who she was talking to, she didn’t ask.

She couldn’t hide her surprise, however, when the five men facing her released a collegial sigh of relief.

She blinked at them, but quickly focused her attention back on Alec. “We’ve been waiting for you for a month.”

Alec frowned. “I only learned about what Sebastian had done yesterday,” he said.

“Well, it’s been a mess,” Maia grunted, and there was an oddly accusatory edge to her voice, but Magnus wasn’t sure it was meant for them.

“We should go,” Simon said, looking over his shoulder like he expected Sebastian to jump from behind a rock anytime. “We’ll explain everything when we’re there.”

“Where are we going?” Hodge asked sternly.

“My inn,” Maia replied, leading the way. “I rearranged the basement for you quickly this afternoon but it’s tiny so you’re gonna have to share the bunks. Apart from you, Your Highness.”

“It’s Your Majesty,” Hodge cut in.

“Not right now,” Maia retorted, throwing him a pointed glare before turning to face Alec, walking backwards to follow Simon. “I got a single mattress for you. Is that alright?”

Magnus scoffed a discreet laugh under his breath, biting at his bottom lip.

“I can share a bunk,” Alec retorted, and both Jace and Ragnor snorted this time. “I’ll survive.”

Maia seemed puzzled by the lack of fancy whims she had clearly been expecting, but she didn’t argue, relief flashing in her dark eyes, and swirled back around.

Jace slowed his steps to slide between Alec and Magnus, throwing an arm around both their shoulders. “So, Rock, Paper, Scissors to decide who’s sharing with Alec?” he asked, and muffled a pained moan when Magnus elbowed him in the ribs in response.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is already beta'd so it should be coming up soon enough.
> 
> I'm on tumblr [@lecrit](http://lecrit.tumblr.com/) and on twitter [@_L_ecrit](https://twitter.com/_L_ecrit).  
> I'll post one or two cookies before next chapter is up.
> 
> Ace, happy birthday again babe.
> 
> All the love,  
> Lu. ❤


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello cupcakes!
> 
> Here's chapter two, where we discover that Alec may be King but Maia is definitely Queen.  
> (and Magnus, Master of the Entire Universe)
> 
> Happy reading!
> 
> Ps: #lecrit to live-tweet ;).

To avoid drawing attention on them, horses were out of the question, so they walked the miles that separated them from the capital, only stopping to drink and stretch their sore muscles twice. It was already mid-morning when they walked into the Hunter’s Moon, thankfully empty.

It seemed like the classiest establishment Alec had ever stepped in compared to the one they had been to in Island Dumort, but the comparison didn’t render the place justice.

The sunrays seeping through the windows bathed the main room in light. The embers of a once warm firm fire rested at the bottom of an imposing stone fireplace on the opposite wall, but the heat had endured through the night and remained, leaving behind a lingering smell of ashes. Tables and chairs were neatly ordered, as was the bar on the side. 

All in all, it seemed to be a convivial place, and Alec was almost disappointed that he had to discover it under such circumstances.

They followed Maia behind the bar and down a set of stairs that led to the basement, which was, like she had told them, a mess of mattresses thrown on the ground.

“I have a few rooms that I rent upstairs,” she informed them. “They’re all occupied by members of the resistance, so you don’t have to worry about them spreading word of your arrival. It's still safer for you in the basement, I'm afraid.”

“We ration the food,” Simon said. He always seemed to speak like he was in a rush, the words spurting out of his mouth as if they were trying to escape. “Sebastian has cut all the supplies of provisions from the castle to the people who were supporters of King Robert, at least according to him. That includes us. We have more than enough food right now but we don’t know how long we’ll last with all these mouths to feed.”

“Especially with five additional mouths,” said a stern voice.

Alec startled and they all moved in a same movement to face the woman who had talked. She had long auburn hair tugged into a messy bun on the back of her head and clear green eyes that gave her gaze an almost ethereal kindness.

Although her words had been tense, she smiled as she took them in. “Hello,” she said. “I’m Iris Rouse.” She took a step closer, scanning their group with her eyes and turned towards Alec, bowing her head. “Your Majesty.”

“Alec,” he said, sending her an uneasy smile.

She smiled again, and opened her mouth to talk but was cut off by the sound of light footsteps in the staircase. They turned to identify the source and Alec paused at the sight. 

There was a little girl standing there, with dark skin and deep brown eyes, her brown hair arranged in one intricate braid tied with a purple bow at the end.

“Hello sweet pea,” Magnus called out, in a sweet, cooing voice that made Alec smile despite himself.

Iris spared a look at him, her brows slightly furrowed, before she turned towards the little girl. “This is Madzie, my goddaughter.”

“Where are her parents?” Ragnor asked, always the pragmatic one.

“They died many years ago,” Iris said. “The Clave had them killed because they saw something they shouldn’t have. Madzie has been with me ever since.”

Alec clenched his jaw, his fingers twitching with anger but he quickly composed himself, walking up to Madzie, who was still standing in the staircase, utterly immobile. “Hello, my Lady,” he said softly, tilting his head to the side to catch her gaze. “I’m Alec. I like your bow.”

She blinked at him but didn’t answer, although the faintest hint of a smile ghosted on her lips, and her fingers shot up to fidget with the bow in her hair.

“She doesn’t talk much,” Simon told him.

“Well, I’m sure we have many other things in common,” Alec said, winking at the little girl, whose smile widened into a grin.

“We’re gonna let you unpack,” Maia said. “You must be tired and I could use a nap as well. There’s food in the meat safe behind you, you can help yourselves but please be reasonable. I’ll be back in the afternoon to see if you need anything. We can talk about what we’re gonna do then.”

“Thank you,” Jace replied with a benevolent nod. “We really appreciate it.”

Again, she seemed surprised by the courtesy, and Alec wondered how she had been treated before by the people of their rank if something as simple as well-deserved gratitude made her dark eyes flash with astonishment.

She hummed dismissively and disappeared up the stairs, grabbing Simon by the arm to drag him along. Iris followed, Madzie’s hand firmly tucked in her own.

As soon as they were out, the door shutting with a creak, Alec heaved out a deep sigh, running a hand over his tired features. He was exhausted, the accumulation of the trip, the walk to the inn, the lack of sleep and everything he had had to learn and face in the past couple of days falling on his shoulders all at once.

“Are you alright, my love?” Magnus murmured in front of him.

Alec blinked his eyes open and smiled at his lover, as genuinely as he could bring himself to. Behind Magnus, Jace and Hodge were already settling on one of the bunks, having decided to leave the single one to Ragnor.

Alec hummed, stepping closer to bury his head in Magnus’ neck and wrap his arms around his waist. He didn’t care if Maia or anyone else barged in and saw them. He just needed to be close to Magnus, to feel his beating pulse and cadence his own breathing to it to make sure he wasn’t going insane.

“I’m just tired,” he muttered against his neck.

Magnus pressed a kiss against his hairline, his fingers stroking against the bridge of his ear reverently. “Let’s get some sleep, then,” he murmured against his skin. “We’re going to need all of our energy to obliterate Morgenstern. Especially if we want to look flawless while doing it.”

Alec scoffed in amusement against his neck and finally pulled back, for the sole purpose of leaning in again to catch Magnus’ clever mouth with his own. Magnus smiled against him, kissing him right back.

“It’s going to be okay,” he murmured when he pulled away, and Alec told himself he had no choice but to believe him.

.

Magnus was woken up a few hours later by the sound of wood being carved and Alec’s soft voice whispering.

“I used to do these for my little brother Max,” he was saying. “I wonder if he’d still like them. I haven’t seen him in a while.”

Magnus felt a pang in his chest at the dejection in Alec’s tone. He opened his eyes and was surprised to find him right there sitting with his legs crossed, leaning his back against the makeshift bed they had slept on, and the little Madzie sitting in front of him, blinking at him curiously. Magnus fluttered his eyes down to Alec’s hands. He was gripping on a bit of wood in one, a sharpened knife in the other and he was carving something.

Magnus darted a look over the room. Everyone else was still soundly asleep.

“The fox was always his favorite animal,” Alec continued and Magnus could only see his profile, but he could surmise the small, albeit fond, smile on his lips.

Alec hummed in satisfaction and held out his hand to Madzie. She seemed to debate on it for a while but eventually she picked the timbered fox out of Alec’s hand with a bewildered expression.

Magnus smiled to himself, but reached out to stroke the nape of Alec’s neck. He relaxed almost immediately under the touch, but didn’t turn around to face him, his whole attention focused on Madzie.

“What’s your favorite animal?” he asked her, picking another piece of wood from a small pile next to him.

She darted her eyes to Magnus for a moment, before turning back to Alec. “Black panther,” she said in a small voice, as if she wasn’t quite sure it was the appropriate answer.

Alec frowned, his lips pursing together. “I’ll try,” he said with unwavering resolve, “but I’ve never seen one in real life.”

“I have,” Magnus quipped, sitting down on the bed, his thumb digging in a tense knot in Alec’s neck.

Madzie’s eyes widened and she stared at Magnus curiously.

“Would you like to hear the story?” he asked softly, and she quickly nodded. Magnus beamed proudly, feeling Alec’s muscles ease under his touch. He set his other hand on his other shoulder, although his attention was solely on the little girl.

“So I was travelling with my good friend Catarina, and this scoundrel over here,” he said, pointing a finger at Ragnor’s sleeping form, “and we were looking for the treasure of the Flower of the Sea, a big ship which was rumored to have sunk somewhere down South near the Pandemonium islands. I don’t know if you know this, but those are very wild islands, very dangerous and certainly not suitable for a little lady like yourself.”

Madzie shook his head, eyes wide and interested, and Magnus preened. “Half of the island we were exploring was a jungle, with trees as tall as the highest tower of the castle. We had to cut our way through the wilderness to even walk. It was raining, too, so the atmosphere was almost suffocating. Sometimes, we would come across a parrot, or a monkey swinging from branch to branch, but we had been lucky and so far we hadn’t been attacked. Until…”

He paused for effect, and smiled inwardly when he saw Madzie had moved from her position to sit on her heels, hanging to his every word. Alec was relaxed beneath his hands, but Magnus knew he was listening too, his chin tilting up slightly. He stretched his head backwards to glance up at him, leaning on Magnus’ lap, and he lifted an eyebrow, clearly asking for more.

“Until,” Magnus continued, his thumbs shifting to massage Alec’s temples, “we heard a growl somewhere behind us.”

Madzie gasped, her hold tightening on the carved fox in her tiny hand.

“We turned around and there was a panther, right there,” Magnus murmured. “It had fur like black satin, shifting with the light that was pouring through the tallest trees, and eyes glowing like emeralds, greener than the greenest leaves in the jungle. It prowled among the shadows, almost invisible, waiting for the best opportunity to strike.”

“What did you do?” Alec asked, failing at sounding nonchalant, and Madzie nodded eagerly. Magnus smirked down at him knowingly.

“We knew any rapid movement could provoke an attack, so we remained completely still. We held back our breaths and stayed as calm as possible,” he said in a ushered tone, as if sharing a secret with them. “But of course, Ragnor, this graceless goose, was bitten by a mosquito and he moved to slam a hand on his arm to get it and the panther roared and launched itself at us.”

“Thankfully, we were quick enough to get out of the way and grab weapons to defend ourselves,” he went on, fingers drifting down to squirm along the fresh scruff on Alec’s jaw. “We all had the long knives we had used to cut the branches to make our way through the jungle, so we were armed enough and when it launched itself at us again, I managed to cut the animal at the flank, deeply enough to hurt it but not to kill it. It was enough to scare it, though and it fled through the jungle, disappearing behind the impenetrable overgrowth as easily as it had appeared.”

“Wow,” Madzie breathed out when he was done, eyes still blown in awe.

“So, I know exactly what a black panther looks like,” Magnus concluded with a grin. “If you can find me some paper and a pen, I can draw you a panther so Alexander has a draft to carve you one.”

Madzie nodded eagerly and quickly shot up to her feet, all but running upstairs.

Alec waited until she was gone to blink up at Magnus, head still on his lap. “So, how much of that story was true?” he asked, his mouth curving in a dubious smirk.

Magnus bit his bottom lip on a smile, his thumb stroking against Alec’s lip adoringly. “It wasn’t a black panther, it was a tiger,” he admitted with a smirk. “And I actually killed it, because we had no other choice, but she doesn’t need to know that. And Catarina wasn’t there. She had stayed on the ship because she was mad at me for bringing Camille along. It was Camille in the jungle with us but I try to keep her away from children tales.”

Alec snorted, turning his hand to press his lips against Magnus’ wrist. “Smart move,” he commented, bringing a hand up to grab a hold of his shirt and pull him down.

Magnus obliged willingly, bending down to give him an upside-down kiss, humming in content. He pulled back after a while, planting another kiss on his cheek, then on his eyelid.

The door of the basement opened with a creak. Magnus pulled back hastily and Alec let go of his shirt reluctantly, straightening up with a sigh. Maia’s face appeared at the top of the staircase and she waved at them. They waved back, feeling a bit dull, and nodded when she gestured for them to come upstairs, before disappearing again.

Alec stood up with a groan, straining his neck, a small smile on his lips at the obvious ease in his muscles. “You truly are magical,” he told Magnus, and bended down to quickly peck his mouth again.

“I’m a man of many talents.” Magnus winked, patting his chest. “Now let’s wake up those lazy asses,” he muttered, and turned around to do just that, gently kicking Ragnor’s hip.

.

When they took the stairs to the ground floor, stepping into the bar, the place was as empty as it had been in the morning.

They sat down in a quiet corner near the lit fireplace, the flames curling and swirling over the burning dry wood, its crackling the only noise in the otherwise silent room.

“Are you Magnus Bane?” Simon asked at once, as he handed him a fuming bowl of stew. “The pirate?”

Magnus nodded warily, quirking an eyebrow in inquiry.

“They say it’s all your fault,” Simon said bluntly, his eyes widening immediately as if he only realized the meaning of his words. “I mean, I don’t believe it, but that’s what Morgenstern said after he walked on the royal balcony to announce he had killed King Robert and taken over the throne.”

“Not the first time I’ve been accused of another man’s cowardice,” Magnus retorted, accepting a piece of bread from Maia with a grateful smile. “What else do they say about me? I’ve been accused of cannibalism once or twice too, and although I am a connoisseur of human meat, I usually don’t eat it. That would spoil the fun.”

Jace choked on his spoon, his laughter dying in a fit of coughs, and Alec simply mumbled a disapproving ‘Magnus’ under his breath, but Magnus remained unfazed.

Simon frowned in confusion, but shrugged, straightening in his seat. “They say you corrupted King Robert and the prince, and that is why they allowed you to go on that diplomatic mission and why your name was cleared in the Clave trials.”

“Yeah, he corrupted the prince alright,” Jace muttered under his breath, earning himself a vicious jab in the ribs from Alec.

“And everyone knows the prince stopped your execution a year ago,” Simon added through a mouthful of stew, pointing a finger at Alec.

“We were there,” Maia chimed in, and all the gazes turned to her. “In the crowd. It was pretty epic. And the look on Valentine Morgenstern’s face was priceless.”

She laughed to herself, as if reminiscing a fond memory, and Magnus couldn’t help but to laugh with her.

“And damn,” Simon exclaimed, waving toward Alec, “that arrow you shot was impressive!”

Alec smirked, looking down at his own bowl of stew. “I’m a pretty good shot,” he admitted with a shrug.

“Do you plan on using those skills to take down Sebastian?” Iris asked as she walked to join them, taking a seat next to Hodge.

Alec’s jaw flexed with irritation at the name, his eyes darkening, and Magnus cursed inwardly at the disappointed twinge in his chest when it was Jace who reached out to pat his shoulder in comfort.

“Things have been going downhill really fast since he killed your father,” Maia said when it became obvious that Alec wasn’t sure how to answer. “I mean, we were never treated fairly, but it was better with your father.”

Alec’s brows furrowed as he set his eyes on her.

Maia lifted an unimpressed eyebrow. “What?” she blurted out. “Your kind has been deciding of rules and laws for ages but you never cared enough to wonder how they were affecting us.”

“My kind?” Alec echoed bewilderedly.

“Aristocracy,” Maia eluded. “Nobility. The crowned heads who live in their high castles and let us work our fingers to the bone, take our money and leave us crumbs to feed on at the end of the month.”

Alec pushed his lips together, frown deepening.

“Watch your mouth,” Hodge growled. “You’re talking to your king.”

“Right now, I’m talking to a man,” Maia retorted, tilting her chin up in defiance. “A man just like you and I. And I don’t have for habit to bite my tongue in front of men.”

Magnus looked up at Alec, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, and Alec sent him back a conniving smile, bemused.

“Feel free to speak your mind,” he said amiably. “It is quite refreshing. People tend to forget I am indeed a man before I am a prince.”

“A king,” Hodge corrected.

“She’s right,” Alec said, shaking his head, but he sounded bitter now. “I am not a king as long as Sebastian is infesting my castle, claiming my throne and holding my siblings hostages.”

“And Luke,” Simon cut in, flinching a little when the gazes turned to him. “Luke is imprisoned and if we’re going to free your brother and sister, we have to free him too.”

“Agreed.” Alec nodded. “Pardon my bluntness, but why do you care about Sir Luke’s fate?”

“Luke is the leader of the resistance,” Maia explained. “Or at least, he were before he got arrested. The Clave’s corruption didn’t magically appear the day you discovered it. It had been going on for years and we knew of the Morgenstern’s malfeasance but we couldn’t do anything about it and no one in the castle ever listened to the people. No one until Sir Luke. He tried to warn King Robert, but he just said there was nothing to be done without risking a coup d’état.”

“Well, he was right on that one,” Jace butted in, the verve of his tone only matching the sorrow underneath.

“There were rumors about Sebastian seeking revenge for his father’s execution before it happened,” Maia continued as if he hadn’t interrupted. “Luke told us to be prepared. He’s the one who told us when you were due to come back from your trip and to count on you if anything like what Sebastian did were bound to happen.”

Magnus could almost see the weight of the world, full of duties and responsibilities, falling on Alec’s shoulders again, ruining his previous attempts at easing it.

He quickly straightened up, but Magnus knew that the determination flashing in his eyes was mostly staged.

“Do you have a plan?”

Simon and Maia shared a glance, before turning back towards them, grimaces on both their faces.

“Well, we were kind of counting on you for that,” Simon said awkwardly. “I’m not highly graded enough in the Navy to have access to the castle and Sebastian has soldiers patrolling day and night at every entrance.”

“Every entrance?” Jace asked, bending down to set his bowl on the small table next to the fireplace. “Every known entrance, perhaps, but Sebastian doesn’t know the castle like we do.”

.

The next few days passed in a blur, and time seemed to flow like sand on a beach, slowly, moving only with the appropriate wind.

Soon, a week had come and gone, and Alec could feel frustration and an itch to act grow in him slowly but irremediably. They were working on a plan, but he had stopped getting involved after the second day of idle talks and arguments.

He had carved five different panthers for Madzie until he had finally been satisfied enough with the result to gift it to her, and at least the wide smile spreading on her face had been worth it. Lately, she seemed to be better company than the adults who were making plans for him to get back a throne he didn’t think he deserved.

He checked the clock on the wall above the fireplace. A minute had passed since he last had checked two hours ago. It was like time itself was taunting him, reminding him of his powerlessness and how useless he was sitting here, watching it fly while his siblings were still certainly waiting for him to rescue them.

He had taken the unpleasant habit of daydreaming about them, imagining what they were feeling, how they were treated and it was all made worse by the fact that he recalled too well what it had been like to witness Sebastian grow older with him. They were only two years apart, Alec being oldest, and Sebastian had been raised among the other noble children in the castle. He had been cruel even as a child, taking a wicked pleasure in intimidating the other children, or besting one in their swordfighting lessons. He could even remember the bemused smirk he had given Alec one day he had joined his father in the rostrum to attend an execution and the executioner had messed up, failing to kill the condemned man with the first strike and they had had to observe him screaming in agony until Alec’s father had ordered to have him put out of his misery.

“Alexander?”

It all came back to the same interrogations in his head: what if he had been there?

He had left, a year ago, had abandoned his family even though he knew how difficult the following months would be because of the Clave trials coming up. But he had gone anyway, because all that had mattered at the time had been to be with Magnus, and it was the only plausible option they had come up with.

He had been selfish, had put his own desires above his duty as heir to the kingdom, and he had left to let his love blossom away from prying and judgmental eyes.

“Alexander?”

It was almost noon, and they had gathered in the basement to work on their plan. Maia’s friend and employee Gretel was working upstairs at the bar - which Maia had reopened to avoid attracting suspicion - and keeping an eye on Madzie at the same time, but Iris, Simon and she were there, as were Jace, Hodge, Ragnor and Magnus, and they were all looking at him expectantly.

Alec blinked out of his stupor, focusing on the questioning faces in front of him. “Mmh?”

It was Magnus who had called him, and he took a step forward, frowning. “Are you alright?”

Alec nodded quickly. “Yeah, yeah,” he said, with a dismissing wave. “I just zoned out for a second. Sorry. What was it?”

Maia crossed her arms over her chest. “You know it’s your throne we’re trying to get back, right?”

Alec glared at her but didn’t reply, turning his gaze back to Magnus.

“We were asking you if you knew a Raj,” he eluded. “Sheldon found out that he’s one of the guards patrolling in the corridors that lead to Max and Isabelle’s chambers.”

Alec nodded, his stomach twitching painfully at the mention of his siblings. “Yeah,” he croaked out, before clearing his throat. “He was a good recruit before he became an officer. He’s all for following orders. Not exactly fun to be around.”

“Sounds like someone you’d get along with,” Jace chimed in teasingly.

“I resent that,” Magnus argued.

“Of course you do,” Jace countered. “You’re in l-”

He cut himself off before it was too late.

Maia turned to face Alec. “Do you think he would be dedicated to Sebastian?” she asked. “Or would it be worth it to try to reach out to him and see if he can help?”

“I don’t know,” Alec sighed, shrugging.

Maia’s upper lip twitched in annoyance and she took a step forward. “Could you try to at least pretend that you give a damn about what we’re trying to do?” she snapped. “You’re supposed to lead us and you haven’t said anything other than yes, no, or I don’t know in three days.”

Alec shook his head dejectedly. “Luke was wrong,” he mumbled, running a hand over his tired features. “I’m not - I’m not the leader you think I am. I don’t know what to do. I let a tyrant steal my crown, murder my parents and do God knows what to my siblings and I don’t know how to get any of it back.”

Maia opened her mouth to reply, but ended up closing it again, stunned. Next to her, Simon’s eyes flashed with disappointment, but he remained uncharacteristically quiet.

“It’s not your fault,” Jace said benevolently.

“It is, though,” Alec gritted out. “I started this whole thing when I stopped Magnus’ execution and then I fled for a year so I could live my peaceful love story while everyone here suffered first from the Clave trials then from Sebastian’s coup d’état. What kind of leader does that? Throw away his duties to be with a pirate?”

The silence that followed was heavy, and Alec realized what he had said a second too late.

“Oh my God!” Simon tried to whisper but failed miserably, glancing at Maia with blown, excited eyes. “They’re totally together! I knew it!”

“Everyone knew it, you idiot,” Maia deadpanned. “Have you seen the way they look at each other?”

Alec didn’t pay them much attention, though, because Magnus was staring at him sternly, hurt, disappointment and anger dancing in his eyes, lips pulled in a thin line.

“I don’t think this  _ pirate _ forced you to do any of that,” Magnus said, spitting out the word brutally, his face shifting to an unreadable mask that made Alec’s heart clench in his chest. “I was ready to leave the city after your father had banned me and you’re the one who came running after me to ask me to stay. You’re also the one who convinced your father to let us both leave on that diplomatic mission.”

“Well, maybe it was a mistake,” Alec exclaimed, frustration numbing any coherent thought. “Maybe I shouldn’t have chosen my personal life over my duties! Maybe I should have let you go! We wouldn’t be in this situation today!”

Magnus took a step back and shut his eyes, inhaling deeply. Alec had seen him do so before, and he knew it was Magnus’ way of taming his wrath.

When he opened his eyes again to look at him, they were brisk as the winds of the West lands.

“You made those choices and you may be regretting them now, but there’s nothing you can do to change them,” Magnus hissed, slowly, every word measured. “I’m sorry you’re only realizing now that I’m only a mere pirate, Your Majesty,” he added bitterly. “I bear the mark to prove it on my wrist, it’s not like I tried to hide it from you.”

“It’s not about you being a pirate!” Alec protested loudly.

Magnus scoffed, sending him a burning glare. “You seemed to think differently a minute ago,” he retorted coldly.

“Seriously, Magnus?” Alec blurted out in exasperation. “You know very well I don’t give a damn about what you are or were!”

Magnus sucked in another deep breath, and there was only disappointment in his voice when he spoke next. “You know what? Maybe you’re right. Maybe it was a mistake.”

He had uttered the words first, but somehow, having them thrown back at him felt like a slap to the face and Alec swallowed hard, his wrath vanishing in the spur of a second to leave only a hollowness in his chest.

“I need some air,” he gritted out through clenched teeth and he turned around to climb the steps two at a time, slamming the door shut behind him.

Gretel gave him a surprised look, but she probably saw the wrath on his face because she didn’t ask. She did open his mouth to stop him when he headed straight to the door but he pretended he didn’t hear her, pulling the hood of his cape over his face and walking outside resolutely.

The sun blinded him for a moment, but he didn’t mind because he was actually seeing it properly, feeling its heat warming his skin - not through the windows of the inn or in one of his pessimistic daydreams about his siblings - for the first time in what seemed to be forever. He had to blink a few times to accustom his eyes to the light but eventually, he was able to look around him without squinting.

The street was alive, buzzing with the animation of the food market downtown. There was chatter everywhere, between sellers and buyers, between friends running into each other, between children playing around, and Alec inhaled deeply. It smelled like spices, saffron and turmeric mixing together in an entrancing scent.

Alec almost wanted to walk among the crowd, to meddle with the people and hear what they had to say, what they talked about with one another, but he knew it was too dangerous. It would put him at risk, and with him Magnus, Jace, and all the people who were staying at the Hunter’s Moon.

The door opened behind him with a creak and Alec gritted his teeth, bracing himself for another argument with Jace - because he knew Magnus was too proud to come after him when he was the one who had snapped at him unwarrantedly - but instead he felt something tug at the sleeve of his cape. He glanced down to find Madzie standing there.

“Nana says I can play outside if you’re watching me,” she said in a her small but somehow firm voice, and Alec was left with no other option than to nod.

He tugged on his hood to take it off his eyes so that he could watch her properly. She found a small stretch of grass right in front of him on the other side of the road, where flowers had long been killed by the colder days of winter, and sat down on the ground before digging in her pockets to produce the collection of wooden animals he had carved for her in the past few days. It made him smile despite himself, thinking he hadn’t done everything wrong.

He didn’t know how long he stayed there, watching Madzie play innocently with her toys, making whooshing noises with her mouth and talking quietly to herself. The street was still buzzing, and if Alec had been weary at first of being recognized, he realized now that it was a good thing, because no one was paying attention to a hooded man hunched against the wall of an inn when there was so many other things to gush about, no matter the time of the day.

The fresh air had done him good, at least, and he had finally managed to ease his mind a little, which wasn’t entirely a good thing because now he could actually think about what he had said in the heat of a moment and it was all kinds of awful.

The claustrophobic sensation of being locked up in the basement for a week, with no real chance at intimacy and the constant feeling of being looked at with either sorrow, pity or hope, had gone up to his mind and messed it up, and because Alec had never been an expert at acting rationally when faced with a myriad of contradictory feelings, Magnus had paid the price for it. Alec knew that none of it was Magnus’ fault but it was easier to take it out on him, to hurt him the way he was hurting himself, because it felt like he was alone in his anguish and he needed a companion of misfortune. And Magnus had been his favorite companion ever since he had met him on a deserted island over a year ago.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by Madzie shooting up to her feet. Time seemed to slow down again, as if to taunt him, as he watched her stumble onto the road to pick up the carved black panther she had dropped in her passionate renaction of Magnus’ jungle tale. She didn’t seem to see the carriage that was heading right towards her, but Alec did, and he jumped to his feet before he could think twice.

He ran to her, just as she was kneeling down to grab her toy, and picked her up in a swift motion, not quick enough to avoid the collision with the carriage but enough to push her out of harm’s way.

He hissed in pain when his head hit the ground as he rolled over to avoid the horse neighing in fright, its hoof whacking his arm in panic, the whole carriage shaking with a clamor.

He gritted his teeth to hold back a moan and pulled Madzie up on her feet, cupping her face between his hands.

“Are you okay?” Alec asked, alarmed.

Madzie nodded, eyes blown in shock, and she reached out to touch his forehead, her fingers coming out stained with blood.

“It’s okay,” he blurted out hastily. “I’m alright. It’s just a scratch. Are you sure you’re not hurt?”

She nodded again, her eyes drifting down to the ripped material of his cape, exposing his injured arm. Her bottom lip pushed into a pout, shaking in a clear warning of a sob coming through, and he quickly shook his head, tugging her into his arms.

“I’m okay,” he repeated, kissing the top of her head. “You’re okay so I’m okay.”

“Sir, are you alright?” a foreign voice boomed somewhere above him. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t see her there.”

“We’re good,” Alec replied, keeping his head bowed.

This day had already been hell, he didn’t need to make it worse by being recognized by a stranger who might sell him out for Sebastian in exchange of whatever reward he would be promised.

“Are you sure?” the man asked. “My wife is a nurse. I can -”

“They’re good,” Maia’s voice called out in his back. “They’re staying at my inn, I’ll take care of them.”

There was a silence for a while, and Alec could almost picture Maia standing tall on her feet in his back, glaring at the man in defiance.

“If you’re sure,” he grumbled.

Alec nodded again, more to himself than anyone else, and raised up with Madzie in his arms, the little girl hooking her arms around him and burying her head in his neck. Alec gulped, keeping his eyes firmly averted from the man, who was still standing next to his carriage, and limped past Maia to get inside, waiting until the door was shut behind him to heave out a deep breath.

“What the hell happened?” Maia immediately shouted.

“T-There was a carriage,” Alec explained, stammering. “She didn’t see it and she was going to get stamped on by the horse. I-I know it was reckless. I could have been seen but I couldn’t let her - I couldn’t let her -”

“It’s okay,” Maia said at once, her whole face softening. “Hey, Alec, it’s okay. No one is blaming you.”

It was the first time she had addressed him by his name and somehow, this simple fact managed to ease some of his remaining dismay.

“How about you put Madzie down so we can have a look at your arm and that nasty cut on your forehead?” Simon offered gently.

Alec bended down to do that but Madzie tightened her hold around his neck and he straightened up again, shaking his head.

Maia sighed, but it didn’t sound half as annoyed as she had probably hoped to be. “Come on,” she said. “You can use Simon’s room.”

Alec followed her up the stairs and to a room right next to the staircase. The room was rather plain, with a single bed in the corner, a stash of books on the side and a few clothes tucked in a small cabinet but other than that, it was empty, like its occupier expected to have to run into the night at the first warning.

Once inside, he stroke Madzie’s hair softly, murmuring into her ear. “I’m going to put you down so we can clean the blood off my arm, okay?”

Madzie nodded against his neck, and unhooked her arms as he sat her down on the bed, before swirling around. His whole attention had been so focused on the little girl and on Maia that he hadn’t realized that they weren’t alone.

Magnus was standing in the threshold, eyes wide with terror. Alec opened his mouth to talk, to utter an apology or a statement of avowed love, but the words didn’t seem to find their way past the lump in his throat and all he could do was open his arms for Magnus as he crashed into him.

“You reckless, brave idiot,” Magnus murmured, sliding his arms around him. “I hate you.”

“I love you, too,” Alec replied, burying his nose in Magnus’ hair. “I’m sorry.”

“Later,” Magnus said, pulling back to let his eyes drift over his face, brow furrowed in concern. “Let’s clean you up first.” He turned around to face Maia, his features pulled into a stern mirror. “I’m gonna need some lukewarm water and honey. And a bottle of rum.”

Maia nodded and disappeared through the door.

“Is the rum really necessary?” Alec asked, lifting an eyebrow.

Magnus swirled back around to send him a murderous glare and Alec shut his mouth abruptly. “I’m sure it is,” he peeped with a sheepish smile.

Magnus hummed in satisfaction and crossed his arms over his chest, staying stubbornly silent until Maia came back into the room a moment later, carrying everything he had asked for.

Madzie, who was still sitting silently on the bed, looked between the adults in the room, blinking up at Maia when she came to her and held out a hand. “Come on, princess,” Maia said. “You’ll see Alec when they’re done here. Magnus needs room to take care of him and your Nana is worried about you too.”

Madzie nodded and accepted the offered hand, but before she let herself be tugged out of the room, she turned to Alec, sliding her little hand in his own.

“If you’re really a king, I’m sure you can save everyone like you saved me,” she assured him, a flash of determination flashing on her juvenile features. “You think too much.”

Alec watched her go, his mouth falling open in shock, and kept his gaze on the door even after it was closed and locked.

“She’s right, you know,” Magnus said, and Alec blinked out of his stupor to look at him. His brow was furrowed. He came to stand in front of Alec, gesturing vaguely to his ripped cape. “Take that off, sit down and let me look at you.”

Alec obliged, getting rid of both the cape and the shirt he had been wearing underneath that was just as ruined. Magnus grabbed a cloth, immersed it in the water and started dabbing it softly against his injuries, wiping the blood off.

“Right about what?” Alec asked absently, watching Magnus’ eyes drift over his face as he went to work on his forehead.

“You overthinking things,” Magnus said matter-of-factly. “You do that all the time. You’ve been doing it all week.”

“Have I?” he breathed out.

Magnus drew back to give him a pointed glare and grab the bottle of rum from the bed. He pulled the lid out with his teeth, throwing it to the floor carelessly.

“You’re playing the blame game,” Magnus sighed. “Like you always do when something goes wrong. You start to think and think and think until you convince yourself that everything wrong in the world is your fault, and then you explode and take it out on someone else by being a jerk.”

Alec pushed his lips together. “I’m sorry I called you a pirate.”

“I  _ am _ a pirate,” Magnus retorted with a roll of his eyes. “It’s not about you calling me a pirate, it’s about the way you said it.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“You’re forgiven,” Magnus said on a brisk tone that held proof of the contrary.

He tilted Alec’s head backwards and stepped closer, pouring a good amount of rum over the wound on his forehead. Taken aback, Alec couldn’t hold back a pained shout. He didn’t have the time to recover that Magnus had already moved on to his arm, offering it the same treatment.

Alec whimpered this time, and wiped the remaining liquid from his head before he glanced at Magnus. “You could’ve warned me,” he growled.

Magnus shrugged. “Oops. I’m sorry.”

Alec huffed out a laugh under his breath, and grabbed on Magnus’ hips before he could step away again.

“I’m sorry I took it out on you,” he said, hoping the genuinity of his words transpired on his face. “And I’m sorry I implied that I regretted making the choices I made to be with you. I regret none of the decisions that brought me here with you today.”

Magnus hummed, averting his eyes and Alec knew he had struck a chord. He raised to his feet, cupping Magnus’ face between his hands to force their gazes together.

“It’s just -” Magnus started. He paused, his mouth closing and opening. Eventually, he reached out to lay a hand on Alec’s chest over his heart, heaving. “Sometimes, I think you will wake up one day and realize that we’re from two different worlds, that we’re too different to be together and that I may lose you to one of those fancy lords we met in the Eastern islands. I know I’m a lot to take in and maybe some day you’ll realize I’m just… too much.”

Alec shook his head, his fingers tracing the sharp line of his jaw reverently.

“I love you,” he said, gently. “And my life would be dull and hollow if I had let you go last year. I would have died with my parents, for all we know. I don’t care what you are and where you’re from and how you were born. I love you, and I’m sorry you have to suffer an idiot like myself who makes you doubt how absolutely wonderful you are.”

“Oh, my love, I know how absolutely wonderful I am,” Magnus retorted cheerfully, and Alec knew he had won. “I just thought  _ you _ had forgotten for a while.”

“Never,” he pledged. He waited for Magnus to nod before he asked, “Am I forgiven now?”

“I guess you are,” he replied, unable to hide the smile that was pulling at the corner of his lips.

“Can I kiss you, then?” Alec asked, more eagerly than he had intended to.

Magnus smirked, tapping a finger against Alec’s mouth. “Let’s finish attending to your wounds first.”

“You literally poured rum on my face,” Alec protested, frowning. “I think we’re good.”

Magnus rolled his eyes, and pushed on his shoulders to force him back down on the chair. “You deserved it,” he said, grabbing the jar of honey Maia had brought him. “Did you think I had asked for honey for kinky purposes?”

“Did you?” Alec asked, lips curling up in a smirk.

Magnus scoffed in amusement, opening the jar. “No,” he chuckled. “Raw honey can prevent infections.” He dipped two fingers inside and laid it - gently this time - on Alec’s injuries.

Again, Alec observed him in silence, pleased to see that his features had relaxed, his furrowed brow now only caused by his utter focus as he spreaded the nectar on the wounds. When he was done, he took a step back to study his handiwork and, seemingly satisfied, dipped another finger in the jar before bringing it to his mouth, humming in delight.

Alec huffed out a laugh and raised to his feet to kiss him, tasting the sweetness on his lips.

“I love you, too,” Magnus said, finally.

Alec smiled, tilting his head down to capture his mouth again, sliding his arms around his waist. Magnus reached up to tangle his fingers in Alec’s hair, pulling him closer.

“You’re going to be all sticky,” Alec said, drawing back to gesture at the honey staining his skin.

“I sure hope so,” Magnus retorted with a mischievous wink, and the only reason why Alec didn’t roll his eyes was that he had pretty much given out the rod with which to punish him. “We have Stewart’s room all to ourselves and I haven’t been alone with you in far too long.”

Alec nodded, mouth travelling to Magnus’ neck. One of Magnus’ hands moved to glide along his naked shoulders, leaving a burning path in its wake. They stumbled towards the bed, falling down in a mess of limbs and heated skin, and Alec tugged on Magnus’ shirt with insistence until Magnus took the hint and shuffled beneath him to pull it over his head, his mouth immediately finding Alec’s again.

A single taste of Magnus’ mouth, that first time on that deserted island that had witnessed the birth of their affection, had been enough for Alec to know he would never have enough. It was as if the rest of the world blurred around them, sinking into darkness while Alec happily and willingly drowned in Magnus’ light.

Magnus was that, just that, the only source of light in a slowly shading world that seemed set on fading into obscurity. And kissing Magnus was holding on to that beacon of hope and letting himself believe in better days to come.

Alec swallowed back a hurt moan when Magnus turned them around in a swift movement to straddle his hips, and he knotted his fist into Magnus’ hair, pulling him harder against him, but Magnus was already drawing away, concern flashing in his eyes.

“Are you okay?” he panted. “Did I hurt you?”

Alec shook his head, suppressing another hiss as a pang of pain shot through his brain.

“Alexander,” Magnus muttered in warning, albeit tenderly, with so much love littering that simple name that Alec had to close his eyes to take it all in.

“I may have a raging headache,” he finally admitted through gritted teeth. “And my arm feels like it’s about to fall off.”

Magnus chuckled, sliding off his lap to snuggle against him instead, and rested his head on Alec’s unscathed shoulder and his arm over his waist. Alec sighed, threading his fingers through Magnus’ black hair to twirl a strand around his finger.

“This is good too,” he murmured, pressing his lips against his forehead. “I missed this.”

“So did I,” Magnus said, fingers tracing intricate patterns on Alec’s chest. He wondered if it was a map of the many lands he had visited, or one he was carving in his mind and repeating on Alec’s skin. “Do you think we could permanently kick Sherman out of his room and keep it to ourselves? You could pledge you need a proper bed because you’ve been severely injured while valiantly saving a little girl’s life. That nasty scar on your forehead would just add to the farce. And it’s not like they don’t know we’re together with your outburst earlier so I’d have no problem tagging along.”

Alec chuckled, but the laughter died on his lips as an idea dashed to his mind and settled there, stubborn and invasive.

“Say that again,” he breathed out, glancing down at Magnus with blown eyes.

He merely lifted an eyebrow. “They know about us,” Magnus said. “You literally yelled it in front of everyone.”

“No, not that,” Alec retorted, shaking his head. “I don’t care about that. I’m terrible at keeping secrets anyway and I don’t plan on keeping you one forever. What you said before that.”

Magnus’ smile was blinding when he stretched his neck to press a kiss on Alec’s chin. “I said we could use the excuse of you getting injured to claim Sherman’s room. And that the scar on your forehead would serve as a perfect argument to keep up the farce.”

Alec’s mind was swimming with an already forming scheme. “Dearest, you’re a genius,” was all he managed to blurt out.

Magnus smirked. “Well, yeah,” he said tauntingly. “Nice of you to notice. But may I ask what brought that epiphany?”

“I have an idea,” Alec said, “and you’re not going to like it.”

.

“This is a terrible idea!” Jace blurted out, voice hitching up in incredulity.

“Thank you!” Magnus exclaimed, nodding vigorously.

They were back in the basement and Alec had just exposed his plan to the rest of them after sharing it with Magnus. To say Magnus hadn’t been pleased was an understatement, and he had tried to persuade Alec of how perilous his idea was, but there was no debating with Alec when he was set on doing something. Most of the time, Magnus thought his stubbornness was part of his charm. It made for heated debates and challenging conversations, and Magnus thrived on the unexpectedness of Alec’s opinions, but right then, it made for a hazardous scheme, and he hated it.

“It is quite dangerous indeed,” Ragnor said, sending Alec a rueful glance.

Alec rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. “It is a good plan,” he argued. “You’re just being overprotective.”

“Oh, you’re not allowed to lecture us on being overprotective,” Magnus snapped, pointed a threatening finger at him.

Alec sighed, grabbing Magnus’ finger to pull him closer. “It is a good plan,” he said again, softly, reassuringly. “I won’t be alone and the guards will be too distracted to try to stop us from escaping. Plus, I know how to get out of the throne room in a heartbeat.”

“And what if you’re not in the throne room?” Magnus blurted out.

“Sebastian will want to assert his superiority over me,” Alec said rationally. “There’s no better way to do that than to bring me in the throne room and sit where I should be sitting.”

“What if he doesn’t believe us?” Hodge chimed in. He was leaning against the wall, and his brows were furrowed in either reflection or concern, Magnus wasn’t sure.

“He will,” Alec replied with a confident nod.

“Pardon me, Your Majesty,” Hodge said, hanging his head, “but a cut on your forehead isn’t going to scream that you fought tooth and nail to escape.”

“I know,” Alec said, on the same dauntless tone. He was standing tall on his feet, arms crossed over his chest and chin held high, transpiring of the power that was incumbent upon him by birth. His gaze shifted to settle amidst Magnus and Jace. “That’s why one of you is going to have to punch me. Hard.”

“What?” they exclaimed in perfect unison.

“I am not punching you!” Magnus said firmly. “God knows I want to right now, but I won’t.”

“Well, neither am I,” Jace growled, turning to face Magnus. “You do it! You had a fight earlier, I’m sure you’re still a little bit angry.”

“I am not punching the love of my life!” Magnus protested.

“I am not punching my brother!” Jace yelled back.

Magnus groaned, turning towards Ragnor and Hodge with narrowing eyes. “One of you two can do it.”

“You know I hate violence,” Ragnor said.

“I’m not punching my king!” Hodge shouted in affront.

Alec heaved out a deep sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It doesn’t matter who does it,” he growled. “Just punch me so we can get this over with.”

“Maybe you can just run into a wall,” Simon suggested, “because I’m not punching you either. No offense but you’re kind of terrifying. And so is Magnus. I don’t want to get on his bad side.”

“Smart decision,” Magnus commented, walking over to pat Simon’s shoulder.

“Oh, for goodness’ sake!” Alec yelled. “Just punch me!”

“I’ll do it.”

A thick silence settled in the room, and Magnus drunk it in to ease the blatant shock that was engulfing him, and his companions of misfortune.

It was Maia who had spoken, and she leaped off the table she had been sitting on with crossed legs, lifting an eyebrow. The silence was only broken by the sound of her footsteps as she walked to stand in front of Alec.

“Is that alright with you?” she asked him, and there was a slight smirk on her mouth that made Magnus frown.

“Absolutely,” Alec breathed out in relief, and Magnus thought he shouldn’t look as alleviated as he did at the prospect of being punched in the face. “Just try not to look so happy about it,” he added with a smirk to match her own.

Maia chuckled, taking a step back to rest her weight on her leg. “It’s nothing against you, Your Majesty,” she said, in a smooth voice that made Magnus understand why Simon hadn’t had the courage of confessing his feelings for her just yet. She could be quite terrifying herself. “Just your kind.”

They seemed to share a moment of connivance, something flashing in both their gazes akin to respect, as if this whole affair was bound to build an everlasting friendship.

And suddenly, Maia’s fist was slamming into Alec’s face and he grunted in pain, the strength of the blow forcing him to take a step back. His hand shot up to his lip, who was bleeding, and he grinned at Maia as he wiped the blood off his mouth.

“Another one just to be sure?” he asked, and she laughed, throwing her head back.

“Does he get off on violence?” Jace murmured in Magnus’ ear, a combination of shock and awe layering his voice.

“If he does, I was not aware until now,” Magnus replied blankly, wincing as Maia’s fist connected with the other side of Alec’s jaw. “Alright!” he exclaimed. “That’s enough.”

Alec was massaging his sore face, but his features were calm and composed.

“Sorry,” Maia said, and she sounded genuinely sincere as she laid a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, I did ask for it,” Alec retorted with a dismissive wave. “It was a necessary evil. Thank you.”

Magnus blinked, wondering if he was going to wake up to realize the surreality of the scene was all the fruit of his extravagant imagination and one too many glasses of rum.

Pinching himself, he had to come to the conclusion that it was all very real and he shook his head in exasperation as he walked up to Alec to consider the damages. He grabbed his chin between his index and his thumb.

“That’s going to bruise badly,” he mumbled.

“She’s got a mean swing,” Alec commented airily.

Magnus narrowed his eyes at him. “I hope it’s painful,” he said sharply.

“No, you don’t,” Alec retorted, grabbing Magnus’ hand to squeeze it gently. “It’s the best plan we’ve got, dearest,” he added, lower. “Trust me.”

“I always do,” Magnus sighed.

Alec smiled, leaning in to press a kiss on his forehead.

“Oh,” Maia snickered next to them, talking to no one in particular. Simon was in front of her, though, checking her hand to make sure she was as fine as she said she was. “I can’t wait to tell my children and my grandchildren that I punched the king in the face because he asked for it. Twice. And that he even thanked me for it.”

Alec laughed, wild and carefree, and Magnus couldn’t help but to join them, his irritation slowly vanishing at the ridicule of the situation.

“If you don’t marry her, I will,” he said, pointing a threatening finger at Simon, whose eyes widened in shock.

Alec nodded in agreement, and Simon stood there sputtering, cheeks red with shock and embarrassment.

.

The castle was surrounded by the sea on one side and a dense wood on the other one. This was where they stopped the night after, the adrenaline numbing the utter blackness enveloping them. Moonlight was cutting through the charcoal sky, bathing the trunks and rocks scattering the ground in silvery rays. Darkness was closing on them from all sides and for a brief, fleeting moment, Alec was plagued with the urge to run.

It was the faces of Isabelle and Max, imprinted in his mind like lugubrious paintings, that made him straighten his back and hold out his hands to Hodge.

“Let’s do this,” he said, more to himself than the rest of their group.

Everyone nodded along nonetheless, and Hodge plucked a thick rope out of the pocket of his dusty cape, coiling and fastening it around Alec’s wrists.

“Remember: do not wait for us,” he demanded, turning towards the others, his gaze lingering on Magnus. “You get Isabelle, Max and Luke and you get the hell out of here. Your mission is them and them only. Hodge and I will take care of Sebastian and we’ll come and find you once it’s done at dawn.”

This time, Maia and Simon were the only ones to nod.

“Jace,” Alec hissed in warning.

“Yeah, yeah,” his brother grumbled. “We’ll wait until dawn to come back for you.”

“That’s not what I said,” Alec deadpanned.

Jace rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. “I know what you said.”

“Then I trust you will respect it,” he said, tilting his head towards Maia. “If he doesn’t follow the plan, you have my permission to punch him too.”

A smirk spread on her lips. “Your Majesty, you’re spoiling me.”

Alec chuckled. Hodge pulled on the rope to test the bond. It was tight, but not tight enough to hurt or to prevent Alec from freeing himself in due time. Once Hodge satisfied, Alec turned around to face Magnus, eyes wide and apologetic.

“I hate this,” Magnus breathed out.

“I know,” Alec murmured, manoeuvring to grab his hand and pull him away.

They had to step over a black trunk to get out of earshot. Alec watched the moonlight catch on the golden sparks in Magnus’ eyes, casting his bronze skin with an almost ethereal glow.

“This is not the end,” Alec said firmly. “This is not a goodbye. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Magnus shook his head, cupping Alec’s cheek in his hand. The rings on his finger made his skin shake with a cold shiver.

“My darling,” he whispered, “the beauty of a love story is that it never truly ends.”

Alec remembered the words, uttered by Max’s innocent voice a year ago, the same words that had made him realize the depth of his feelings for Magnus, on the day he had begged his father for a chance to be with the man he loved and then begged said man to stay with him forever and always.

In Max’ mouth, they had been pure and harmless. Now in Magnus’, they were devastating.

“Take this,” Alec said, shifting to take his signet ring off.

Magnus’ brow furrowed. “It’s your family ring,” he muttered. “It means too much to you. Your father -”

Alec grabbed his hand again, sliding it on his finger. It was slightly too big for Magnus, but it fitted nonetheless. “You keep it for me,” he said firmly. “And you’ll give it back at dawn.”

Magnus flexed his jaw, but nodded, before taking off one of his own rings, a big golden band adorned with a shining topaz, to slip it on Alec’s finger - this one, Alec knew, was from the first treasure he had discovered as captain of his own ship, and he had kept nothing but that one and only jewel, a testimony of him being a free man, and the golden coin that hung on a chain around his neck.

“I love you,” Magnus said softly.

“And I love you,” Alec replied, voice pitching low. “I’ll see you at dawn.”

“At dawn,” Magnus agreed.

His hand reached up to cup Alec’s neck, pulling him down to crash their lips together. Alec knotted his fists in the lapels of Magnus’ leather vest to tug him closer, pouring in the kiss all the reassurance he could muster.

His heart was rummaging in his chest, as if aware that it was Magnus ruling it, luring it into endless torment and abundant passion.

As he let Hodge guide him to the castle, the ghost of Magnus’ lips still tingling on his own, he was serene, his mind set on his one and only goal tonight: take down Sebastian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There we go.
> 
> Fyi, the real angst is starting next chapter so... get ready.  
> It'll be up some time next week.
> 
> I'm on tumblr [@lecrit](http://lecrit.tumblr.com/) and on twitter [@_L_ecrit](https://twitter.com/_L_ecrit).
> 
> All the love,  
> L. ❤
> 
> Ps: Dead men leave no kudos or comments but you can. Winky face.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #lecrit if you want to yell at me live.

The castle walls raised out of the darkness in front of them and Alec took a deep breath.

He remembered walking among those walls as a child, feeling protected by the heaviness of the stones as he felt their roughness beneath his fingertips. He remembered his caretaker running after him when he was himself running after Isabelle or Jace to stop them from doing stupid. He remembered their laughs echoing against the stone. He remembered growing up and joining his father in those interminable meetings, learning the art of diplomacy and the length of his true power. He remembered helping Isabelle sneak out to avoid her music lessons until their parents had understood and exempted her of them. He remembered the swordfight lessons with Hodge in the courtyard of the castle, and his parents watching from inside or from the balcony with fondness.

He remembered how it had still felt his home, barely a year ago. Now the same walls felt cold and foreign as he walked through the corridors, his hands bound in front of him, Hodge gripping his sleeve to drag him along in a pretence of harshness.

The throne room was a picture of steadiness, cold but strong in its foundations, the heavy chair sitting at the back of the room in all its powerful glory.

Sebastian sat there, sprawled into the seat that had once been his father’s, legs crossed and a malicious smirk playing on his lips.

He straightened up when Hodge made them stop right before the steps to the stage, and his grin widened.

“Alexander,” he exclaimed, in a cheerful tone that made Alec want to get rid of his bonds at once to rip his head off. “So nice of you to finally join us.”

“I would have come sooner but I really didn’t want to,” he gritted out.

Sebastian chuckled. “Oh, don’t be like that,” he said, dismissing his answer with a flourish of his hand. He wore the Morgenstern signet ring proudly, and, on his head, the king’s crown.

In a swift motion, he was on his feet, striding the distance between them in two quick steps. He grabbed Alec’s chin in his hand, with none of the gentleness Magnus had displayed when he had scrutinised the black eye Maia had given him, forcefully turning his head to study the bruises on his face.

He winced, pulling a face. “That must have hurt,” he said, somewhat apologetically. “I’m sorry we had to come to this.”

Alec didn’t reply, his jaw flexing in irritation.

“Where are his companions?” Sebastian asked, his cold eyes finding Hodge’s.

“I’m not sure,” Hodge said. “I fought the pirate and injured him but I don’t know if I killed him. Sir Jonathan was sleeping when I found Alexander in Island Dumort.”

Sebastian hummed in acknowledgement. “It doesn’t matter anyway,” he asserted. “Alexander is here now, and we can settle this once and for all.”

“Give me a sword and I’ll be happy to settle whatever this is with you,” Alec spat, shaking his head to get rid of Sebastian’s hand on his face. The simple touch was making him feel sick.

Sebastian laughed again, swirling around to walk back to the throne. There, he bended down to pick something from the ground and Alec’s breath caught in his throat.

“Did you mean this sword?” he inquired.

The malevolence in his eyes was only matched by the pleasure he seemed to take in taunting Alec. The sword in his hand was the one Alec had left on the ship, feeling undeserving. Seeing it in Sebastian’s hand, the gems shifting with the light of the torches hanging on the walls, made him change his mind.

“That sword doesn’t belong to you, traitor,” he barked. “Nor does the crown on your head. You killed my father but I remain the rightful king.”

“Now, now,” Sebastian tutted, shaking his head in disapproval. “We all know what a poor king you will make, what with your… lifestyle. Eloping with a pirate? Alexander, you should know better. Your father should have known better than to let you degrade your rank that way.”

“Fuck you,” Alec growled. He inhaled deeply, his gaze boring in Sebastian’s stubbornly. “I want to see my siblings.”

Sebastian hummed again, but there was something wicked in it that made Alec’s stomach squirm.

“Ah, Isabelle,” he sighed. “She’s gorgeous, your dear sister. But terribly ill-tempered. She actually slapped me the other day.”

Alec couldn’t refrain a proud smirk. “She’s never been too fond of men who resort to violence to claim a power they don’t hold in the first place.”

His smirk almost faltered at the look of pure malice that flashed in Sebastian’s cold eyes. “Oh, yes, there’s probably that,” he murmured. “But she mostly wasn’t too happy about our engagement, I guess.”

.

They found the entrance of the tunnel that had been hemmed in the stone beneath the castle at the limit between the woods and the road easily, hidden underneath a mass of branches. Magnus followed Jace’s silhouette in the darkness, relying on the knowledge he had sworn to have on every turn and corner. The air was chilling, and the fire burning on their torches wasn’t quite enough to create heat, the crackling of the flame and their muffled footsteps the only noises resounding in the quietness.

They didn’t say a word, following Jace’s lead as he traversed another corridor before stopping right in front of a stone door that opened on yet another corridor, this one seemingly much warmer.

“Are we going to arrive in a secret entrance behind a bookshelf?” Simon asked excitedly.

“You read too many books,” Maia deadpanned, but it sounded fonder than she had probably been aiming for.

“Yeah,” Jace chimed in, voice down to a whisper. “It’s not a bookshelf, it’s a tapestry.”

“Oh my God!” Simon replied excitedly, enthusiasm making his murmuring voice seem like he was shouting.

“We’re almost there,” Jace said, leading them up a long set of stairs. “Shut up.”

Simon grumbled something under his breath but neither Jace nor Magnus paid him much attention, because Jace was opening another door and pushing away the tapestry. They stumbled into a room that was plunged into darkness but for the light from their torches.

Magnus scanned it quickly. A huge canopy bed sat against the wall, bare of any sheets, and there was a stale smell in the air, like it had been empty for a while, which was peculiar for such a big room in a castle.

Jace’s shoulders sagged as his gaze drifted across the room, from the bed and the painting on the wall of a single ship fighting a tempest on its own, to the jewellery resting on the nightstand. They were all emeralds, and Magnus could hear Alec’s voice in his ear telling him how it had always been his family’s favorite stone.

“Where are we?” Maia asked lowly.

“It doesn’t matter. Let’s go,” Jace replied, clearly concealing an anguish deeper than they could probably conceive.

Magnus sighed, dropping a hand on his shoulder and squeezing in comfort. Jace nodded sternly to signify he was okay and opened the door of the room, his head peeking outside to inspect the corridors.

“Clear,” he said, and motioned for them to follow him.

They advanced in measured, quiet steps, acute to every little sound around them, until Jace eventually stopped abruptly at the end of one corridor and slammed against the nearest wall, peeking just one eye to survey the situation.

“That’s Isabelle’s room,” he murmured, jerking his chin to the right. “Max’ is on the other side of the corridor. Two guards in front of each door.”

Simon pointed a finger by the windowless gap in the wall at the clock that was hovering above the city on the highest tower of the castle.

“Well, we don’t have much time, and we have to find Luke too,” he said hastily. 

“Remember, we knock them out,” Jace warned. “If we can avoid killing them, it’s for the best. They’re only following orders and protecting their own asses.”

Magnus nodded, curling his fingers on the grip of his sword tightly. “Sounds like the kind of people I get along with,” he said with a sweet smile that was all pretence. “See you on the other side, my dears.”

He didn’t waste another second, bolting through the corridor with his sword steady in his hand, Jace, Maia and Simon on his heels.

.

“What?”

“You said it yourself,” Sebastian said in his dragging voice, clearly enjoying the confusion on Alec’s features. “I don’t hold that power in the first place. I don’t have royal blood. But marrying your sister would fix that little predicament, wouldn’t it?”

“I swear if you touched one single hair on her head -” Alec started, only to be interrupted by Sebastian tutting and shaking his head.

He started to pace back and forth in front of him in long steps.

“Alexander, Alexander,” he sighed. “It’s all politics.” He paused, swirling to glance back at him. “I don’t expect you to understand, seeing as your definition of politics is fleeing on a ship under the pretence of a diplomatic mission to fuck a pirate.”

Alec’s jaw flexed again, and it took all of his willpower not to burst out of his bonds right then and strangle him with his bare hands. He had to wait.

The plan was to wait.

Sebastian picked up on the hardness of his features, though, and he brought a hand over his heart, feigning a regretful expression. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he said. “Did I hurt your feelings? Or is it because you don’t know if your pirate is alive or dead?”

Alec clenched his jaw, but didn’t reply.

Sebastian walked to stand right in front of him. “What if I tell you I know exactly what happened to him?” he whispered.

Alec frowned in confusion, his breathing quickening as Sebastian took a step closer to stop right in his face.

“He’s dead,” he murmured, his eyes drifting over Alec’s features. “My men found him dead on Island Dumort two days ago. They told me he was barely breathing when they found him, lying on a pile of dump near the beach. He had been slowly bleeding out for hours, perhaps days. From what I heard, they had quite a fun time putting an end to his misery. He cried for hours, calling out for you. But you weren’t there, were you?”

Alec shut his eyes and inhaled deeply. He knew it was all lies. If everything was going according to plan, Magnus was somewhere upstairs freeing his siblings and Luke. None of what Sebastian was saying had happened, and yet, his stomach was twirling, a long, dreadful shiver running down his spine.

“That’s it?” Sebastian called out, sounding disappointed. “No tears? No cry of despair?”

“I don’t believe you,” Alec hissed, staring right into his eyes.

Sebastian hummed, a mischievous spark dancing in his gaze. “I wonder what your dearest pirate would feel if he knew how little you care about his agony?”

Alec blinked, his frown deepening. There was something wrong; he could feel it in his very core.

With a shrug, Sebastian drew back, turning towards Hodge, fidgeting with the sleeves of his adorned shirt.

“Seriously, he wasted his kingdom for this pirate and he’s not even a little bit worried about his safety?” he asked, but it was clear he didn’t expect an answer. “It’s almost like…”

He paused, humming pensively.

“Dearest,” Alec breathed out, his eyes widening as realization dawned on him.

“Mmh?”

“You called him my  _ dearest _ pirate,” Alec eluded in a blank voice, his heart rummaging in his chest. “How- How did you know I call him that?”

Sebastian smirked, and there was something utterly inhuman in him, something wholly destructive and heinous that surpassed everything Alec had imagined.

“It’s almost like you knew he was alive,” Sebastian finished with wicked pleasure. “For now.”

.

Magnus wiped nonexistent dust off his shoulders, watching with a smirk as Simon and Maia worked on tying up the guards they had knocked down.

He stretched his neck and swiftly grabbed the set of keys that was hooked on the belt of one of them, throwing them to Jace, who caught it mid air and turned towards the door to open it.

They walked in warily, but didn’t have the opportunity to take more than two steps, stopping dead in their tracks. Isabelle was standing there in her night gown, her long ebony hair cascading over her shoulders messily, her face pulled into a determined grimace and her hand firmly fastened around a sharp piece of glass she had clearly produced by smashing her mirror on the ground, pointing it in their vicinity threateningly.

“Wow,” Jace exclaimed, throwing both his arms up in the air. “We’re the good guys!”

“Jace?” Isabelle breathed out in disbelief, squinting her eyes to adjust them to the darkness.

When she recognized him, she threw the piece of glass to the ground and let out a relieved sob, throwing herself into her brother’s arms. Jace was forced back by the vigor of her embrace but he quickly balanced himself, hugging her tightly.

“Are you alright?” he asked softly.

Isabelle nodded against him and pulled back, before turning her eyes to Magnus.

She beamed when she saw him, and grabbed his shoulder to pull him against her too. Magnus was taken aback, but he quickly composed himself, wrapping his arms around her to pat her back.

“Come on, darling,” he muttered. “We need to get little Max, then find Luke and get the hell out of here.”

“Luke was moved from the jail to the room next to the library two days ago,” Isabelle told them. “I had to negotiate with Sebastian.”

“Did that bastard touch you?” Jace growled between gritted teeth, eyes dark and menacing.

“Does he still have his head on his shoulders?” Isabelle retorted. “Seeing as he does, I think you can guess the answer.”

Magnus snorted, sliding the key in and unlocking the other bedroom in front of Isabelle’s. Unlike his sister, Max hadn’t been woken up by the commotion in the corridor. He was soundly asleep in a bed far too big for a seven-year-old, curled up under the sheets, gripping a clearly homemade stuffed fox in his arms.

“Come on, little terror,” Isabelle exclaimed, shaking his shoulder gently. “We’re getting out of here!”

Max groaned, rubbing the fatigue out of his eyes. “Go away, Iz,” he mumbled, words muffled as he buried his face against the stuffed animal. “I’m sleepy.”

“Max, look who is here,” she insisted, shaking his shoulder again.

Max sighed, but opened his eyes, if only to indulge her.

“Jace!” he yelled as soon as he caught sight of his brother, leaping out of bed to throw himself at his neck. “Have you come to save us?”

“Me, Magnus and those two,” Jace said, waving over his shoulder at Maia and Simon with one hand, ruffling the boy’s head tenderly with the other.

“Magnus is here?” Max exclaimed, eyes broadening in excitement.

Magnus chuckled, taking a step closer into the light for Max to be able to see him properly.

“Magnus!” Max yelled, only to be hushed by both his brother and sister. He pulled him into a hug as well, his arms circling Magnus’ waist and, once again, Magnus startled, but he reached down to pat Max’ head gently.

“We have to go, Max,” he told him gently. “Grab a winter coat and a pair of boots and we’re off.”

“Where’s Alec?” Isabelle asked as Max rushed to do as told, slipping into his shoes.

Jace and Magnus shared a glance, indecisive, but finally, it was Maia who took a step forward. “He’ll meet us at my inn. Let’s go, princess.”

Isabelle lifted an eyebrow. “It’s Your Royal Highness,” she told her with a smile that seemed to say she didn’t care at all for such frivolities. “And I am not going anywhere until you tell me where my brother is.”

Jace heaved out a deep sigh. “Izzy,” he said. “We have a plan. Alec is going to be fine, I promise. Now, we have to get Luke and get the fuck out before the patrolling guards get over here.”

Max gasped at the curse word, and Magnus chuckled, grabbing his hand. “Come on, Your Little Highness,” he said, ignoring Max’ protest at being called little, leading him back to the exit.

The library was on the same floor, and the two guards keeping the door to Luke’s quarters were easily disposed of, while Simon stayed with Max on the side.

They couldn’t find the keys on any of the guards but one didn’t become as good of a pirate as Magnus without learning how to force a door open. Luke was already on his feet on the other side, ready to bolt to grab a weapon. He relaxed as soon as he recognized them, his features easing into a peaceful mask.

Magnus was struck by his posture, how calm, almost placid, he seemed to be despite everything that had happened. Somehow, it was enough to ease Magnus too.

“Well, you certainly took your time, kids,” Luke exclaimed tauntingly. “Come on, let’s go.”

They rushed through the corridor as quietly as they could while rushing.

It had all gone smoothly, Magnus reminded himself. It was all perfectly fine.

And yet, he couldn’t depart himself from the feeling that something terrible was about to happen.

His instincts had ever wronged him, and they proved it yet again.

They had one more turn to take, one more corridor to run through to get to Maryse and Robert’s chambers and get back to the tunnel. Just one more.

But they had to stop abruptly when the distinct sound of rapid footsteps echoed in front of them and they were quickly faced with a squadron of guards in uniform.

“Shit,” Magnus hissed, and quickly turned to face Jace. “Take us to another secret shortcut. And run.”

And so they did.

.

It all happened very quickly. One moment, Alec was staring at Sebastian in utter shock, a dreadful twist in the pit of his stomach and the next, Sebastian was moving swiftly, producing a blade from the sleeve of his shirt and slicing Hodge’s throat in one clear and precise cut.

Alec felt the blood splash on his face before he could understand what was happening. Hodge gasped - whether it was in shock, or to fill his lungs with air, he didn’t know - and fell to the ground with a dull sound.

“Ugh,” Sebastian groaned. “I hate traitors.”

But Alec barely heard him, dropping to his knees to cup his fingers around Hodge’s neck in a vain attempt at stopping the blood loss.

“Hodge,” he murmured.

His blue eyes were staring at him in horror, blood dripping off his wound and already forming a pool, staining the ground in scarlet and filling the air with an overwhelming metallic scent that called upon nothing but death.

Hodge choked on air, more blood slipping down his chin and before Alec could utter reassuring words, promise him it was going to be alright like he had too many times in the past days, Hodge was opening his mouth.

“I’m… I’m…”

The words sounded faint in his mouth but Alec didn’t have to hear them for he could read them in Hodge’s eyes.

“I know,” Alec whispered. “You’re forgiven. All is forgiven. Just hold on.”

He must have known what was coming, because Hodge smiled faintly, as if reminiscing something happy in his impending demise. He looked peaceful in that moment, in the kind of blissfulness only an end can bring. And then he went still, and the smile vanished from his eyes as the life emptied them with the murmur of his last breath.

Alec blinked away the tears gathering in his eyes, staring at the inert figure of his former mentor, and a cold, livid rage pooled in every fiber of his being. Before he could do anything, however, a strong hand grabbed a fistful of his hair and pulled him backwards.

He hissed in pain, and moved to grab the knife in the inside pocket of his cape that Iris had sewn for him, but it was like Sebastian could read his mind, because he was already digging inside with his other hand, and throwing the blade away.

Clenching his teeth, Alec surged up, pulling on his bound wrists to free himself but before he could as much as attempt to, Sebastian was there, and with him the blade he had used to kill Hodge against Alec’s neck, dreadfully menacing.

Alec froze.

“I’m sorry, Your Majesty,” Sebastian murmured, grabbing on the rope around his wrists and pulling harshly to tighten the knot. “I have so many plans for you, it would be a shame for me to let you go so easily.”

Alec felt a sharp pain at the back of his head, a precise blow that made him stagger forward.

The throne room blurred around him, fading into darkness.

.

They ran indeed but they couldn’t go very far, another group of soldiers already closing in on them from the other side of the corridor.

“Shit,” Magnus hissed.

He wondered if Alec had freed himself yet. If he had, Magnus hoped he had taken down Sebastian and retrieved his crown and rightful place. They would see each other in the morning, and Alec would be reunited with his siblings, and then they could work on leaving this whole story behind them.

But first, Magnus had to do his part.

He pulled his sword out of its sheath and squeezed Max’ hand, still firmly tucked in his own.

“Max,” he said, pointing at a deserted corner, “you stay there and shut your eyes, okay? We’ll tell you when you can look, okay?”

“I can fight,” Max protested. “I had my first lessons while you were away.”

Magnus shook his hand, settling a hand on his shoulder. “Max, this is too dangerous and I don’t have time to argue with you about it. Just do it, okay?”

Max seemed to hesitate for a second but he nodded, and did as he was told, finding a refuge in the corner and sitting down, eyes shut and knees up against his chest.

“I don’t have a sword,” Luke said.

“Give us a minute and we’ll get you one,” Jace replied, and his whole posture screamed that he was getting ready for a fight.

“Do not harm the princess or the prince!” one of the guards warned. “King Sebastian wants them unharmed.”

“Oh, you guys are no fun,” Isabelle called back with an exaggerated pout, swinging the sword she had stolen from one of the guards they had knocked down earlier between her hands with undisputable dexterity.

“King Sebastian?” Luke said, his upper lips twitching in disdain. “Under whose authority? He has no right to claim the throne.”

“Under the authority of the Clave,” the man responded. He had pale, porcelain skin and bright green eyes and in other circumstances, Magnus would probably have found him handsome. Right now, he just wanted to punch him.

“I am the authority of the Clave,” Luke snapped, voice booming in the quiet of the corridor.

“The other Clave, then,” another guard replied, and Magnus wondered if they knew how ridiculous they sounded or if they were really as daft as they seemed.

“I don’t know what Sebastian and General Aldertree promised you to betray your rightful sovereigns, but whatever it is, you dishonored your country, your oath, and yourselves,” Luke said, and it was the first time Magnus had met him, but he had a feeling they would get along just fine.

“We don’t have much of a choice,” another voice called back, resolutely feminine this time. “Most of the army is behind Aldertree, who is behind Sebastian. This,” she said, gesturing to their uniform, “is how we survive, this is how we eat. Our first oath is to serve the king. We have a new king now and that is beyond our control.”

She had dark blonde hair tied into a strict ponytail, and even from the distance, Magnus could see her striking blue eyes. Her jaw was tight, as if she was trying too hard to keep her composure. He could almost perceive the crack in her resolve. The rest of the group, men and women alike, had simmered down to listen to her, watching her intently. She held her chin high, her whole posture screaming leadership, and an increasing amount of doubt. She was the one they needed on their side.

“You do have a choice,” Magnus said, taking a cautious step forward. “You all know the Lightwoods, don’t you? You all knew King Robert. You know he was good and fair, albeit terribly unfunny. He raised his son to be the same. But Sebastian is cruel. He ripped a family apart to grant himself a power he has no right to claim and made the real heirs to the throne prisoners in their own castle. It is up to you now to stand on the right side of this conflict, but we will not forget your faces and your cowardice when we get Alexander’s throne back and you realize how wrong you were.”

“Look,” Jace butted in, coming to stand next to Magnus, “we don’t want to fight you. We didn’t want to fight at all, Sebastian gave us no choice. But tonight, all we want is put our family and friends to safety, away from Sebastian’s cruelty. I’m sure you can understand that.”

The blond woman pushed her lips together, her brow furrowing in reflection. The silence stretched for a while, heavy with tension. Even the birds were quiet, the darkness surrounding them only adding to Magnus’ edginess. He was still gripping his sword tightly, ready to dodge the first strike and attack.

The soldier sighed, running a hand on her creased forehead. She mumbled something under her breath that Magnus couldn’t decipher, darted her eyes to Max’ form in the corner, eyes still shut and hands over his ears, and she turned around to face the rest of the squad.

“I will not force anyone to fight,” she said firmly. “If you don’t want to take part in this, you can leave now and I will cover for you with Sebastian.”

The stunned silence only lasted for a second before a few men and women started backing out of the corridor, disappearing around the corner in a rush.

One of the remaining guards snatched his sword out of its sheath. “What the hell, Lydia?”

She shrugged. “The following orders excuse can only work for so long before it becomes indolence,” she said calmly. “I will not use it to justify doing despicable things.”

The man growled, and pushed her out the way, bolting towards them. “This is why we shouldn’t have women leading squadrons.”

“This one is mine,” Maia and Isabelle called out in a same voice, and Magnus smirked. He would have felt pity for the man if he wasn’t so deserving of the fate that was waiting for him.

He didn’t dwell on it, though, because another guard was already running to him. “Pirate,” he groaned as his sword aimed for his head. Magnus raised his blade to dodge the blow, jumping to the side. “Your head is worth a lot of money.”

“My head is priceless, actually. I have flawless technique,” Magnus retorted with a devilish smirk. 

From the corner of his eye, he saw another opponent aiming at him and he jerked back, to the side. He didn’t have time to study their fighting style. They were coming for blood and coming fast, so he acted unconsciously, his body moving on its own accords to raise his sword and slash the first man across his ribcage. He fell to the ground with a cry of agony, blood spurting out of his wound, his blade clattering to the floor with a metallic sound. Magnus rolled to clear himself out of the way of the second man, snatching the fallen sword in the process, swirling it into his hand to gauge its weight. It was heavier than his own, but it would do.

He kicked the guard in the shin hard and bolt to his feet again, taking advantage of the man crouching in pain to direct a fatal blow at his throat.

“Luke,” he yelled at once.

He was standing a few feet away from Magnus, fighting a guard himself with his fists for sole weapon.

“Here,” Magnus exclaimed, throwing him his extra blade. Luke caught it by the grip swiftly and immediately made good use out of it, stabbing his opponent through the stomach.

Another soldier was already attacking him and he leaped out of the way a second too late, feeling a sharp sting in his shoulder that faded fast, countered by the stream of adrenaline flooding through him. The guard moved fast, and his blade was already striking again but Magnus blocked it promptly, using the leverage to kick him in the stomach with all his might. He didn’t waste a second, rushing forward to end his adversary, who collapsed with a final grunt.

He whirled around, ready to jump to another fight but the quietness hit him at once, only broken by the heavy breaths of his friends.

“You’re so slow,” Jace chastised him, and he sounded like his characteristic self, amused and confident.

Magnus rolled his eyes, wiping his bloody sword on a fallen guard’s uniform. He was about to answer, when more footsteps resonated behind him and he froze, turning to see another squadron speeding towards them.

“There’s too many of them,” Simon exclaimed, but he was more fatalist than panicked.

“Come on!” a voice boomed behind them.

It was Lydia, the blond woman who had been leading the squadron they had quickly decimated. She was standing there, having clearly just gotten back to her feet.

“Follow me!” she said, and they didn’t hesitate.

Jace grabbed Max under the shoulders to lift him up into his arms and they ran after Lydia through barely lit corridors, the sounds of footsteps still echoing after them. Luke was limping, so they couldn’t go too fast, but he was strong enough not to slow them down too much, so they made it to Robert and Maryse’s chambers before the squadron could catch up with them.

Once inside, Magnus and Simon grabbed an old closet standing on the side and smashed it to the ground in front of the door. The soldiers were already pushing from the other side, and they knew they didn’t have much time.

Jace was already lifting the tapestry, putting Max back on the ground. The little boy looked positively terrified, and Magnus’ heart clenched in sympathy.

“Let’s go,” Isabelle urged.

“I’ll go first to lead the way, then you, Max, then the rest of us,” Jace said. “We can only go one by one.”

Everyone nodded quickly and Magnus and Maia turned their backs to them, facing the door, which was dangerously close to opening despite the weight of the closet.

“What - What do I do?” Lydia breathed out next to them, and it sounded to Magnus like she was mostly talking to herself.

“You’re coming with us,” he replied in an ushered tone. “If you stay here, you’ll be dead before you see another dawn.”

Lydia nodded gingerly and Magnus pushed her towards the secret passage behind which Luke had just disappeared. “Go on,” he told her, leaving no room for argument.

Hesitantly, she stumbled after Luke.

“Your turn, Sylvester,” Magnus said.

Simon sighed defeatedly, but refused to move. “No.” He shook his head, jerking his chin towards Maia. “You go first, Maia.”

She gave him a look of disbelief and although Magnus could have sworn her cheeks had flushed a little, she held her ground. “No, you go.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Magnus exclaimed, rolling his eyes in exasperation. “Now is not the time to realize you’re in love with each other. I told Alexander this would happen and he didn’t believe me. Mind you, he didn’t realize he was in love with me up until I left and was about to get out of his life forever.” The door shook with the violence of the assaults. He cleared his throat, wiping the wistful smile off of his face. It really wasn’t the right time to share the details of his relationship with Alec. “Anyway, get the hell out of here.”

When they didn’t move, he turned to face them both. “Now!” he shouted.

Simon staggered towards the exit, Maia right after him, and Magnus followed them, still facing the door. It burst open just as Simon slipped inside, three panting guards barging in.

“Go,” Magnus told Maia hastily, reading the question in her eyes.

She nodded, leaping in the hole in the wall, and he rushed after her. He barely had taken one step forward that he was hauled backwards by a strong grip on his arm. He swirled around, sinking his sword in the guard’s stomach in a swift movement and freed himself. He felt Alec’s signet ring slip off his finger, landing on the floor with a metallic bang, but before he could make a move to get it back, Maia was grabbing his other hand and dragging him after her.

“The ring!” he exclaimed, sounding more distraught than he had intended to.

“Leave it!” Maia yelled, pulling him after her as she ran. “It’s just a ring.”

Magnus wanted to protest, opened his mouth to do so, but his heart was rummaging in his chest, and it was all he could do before his instincts took over and he ran down the stairs and into the tunnel, following the already dim light of Jace’s torch before him. Once out, they were safe.

And he was sure Alec would forgive him for losing his ring once they saw each other at dawn. 

.

They ran all the way to the Hunter’s Moon. They didn’t stop to catch their breath. They didn’t stop to watch over their shoulder if they had been followed. After one too many turn in the tunnel, they had stopped hearing the footsteps after them and with the fading sound of their opponents, Magnus had been able to breathe better, and it had only given him incentive to run faster.

It was still nighttime, but the darkness was slowly fading, chased away by the first gleams of the sun peeking through.

They burst inside the inn, empty at this time of the night and finally,  _ finally _ , they stopped.

Magnus rested his hands over his knees to catch his breath. He was panting and sweating, and the rest of them looked no better. The door leading to the basement opened with a clamor and Ragnor walked in, eyes wide in alarm. He heaved out a deep sigh when he saw it was them, bringing a hand over his chest in relief.

“A-Alexander,” Magnus panted. “Is he back yet? Is he here?”

Ragnor shook his head, and Magnus’ heart sunk.

“Why are you all bloody and dirty?” Ragnor asked, brow furrowed in concern. He strode behind the bar to grab a jar of water and a few glasses that he slammed on the counter before filing them one by one.

Madzie, who had been hiding behind Ragnor’s legs, ran out of her hiding spot to hug Magnus’ legs. He forced a smile to his lips, petting her head in comfort, and grabbed a glass that he downed one in one long sip.

“We were ambushed on our way back,” he explained, before turning accusatory eyes to Simon. “I thought these corridors were supposed to be empty at this time of the night but for the few guards patrolling! We were faced with two whole squadrons!”

“They were supposed to be empty!” Simon blurted out, throwing his arms up in defence. “I don’t know what happened.”

“We knew you would be there,” said a soft, tentative voice.

Magnus had almost forgotten they had taken Lydia with them.

“Who’s that?” Ragnor asked blandly.

“My name is Lydia Branwell,” she said. “I am -”. She paused, frowning. “Or, well, I was a member of the royal guard.”

“Which one?” Ragnor inquired, voice heavy with sarcasm, as he levelled her with an impassible glare.

Lydia didn’t answer, pushing her lips together.

“Lydia helped us,” Jace chimed in. Max was still in his arms, head tucked into his neck, and the poor boy was shaking in fear. “I don’t know how we would have escaped without her.”

Ragnor seemed to ponder it for a moment, lips pulled into a thin line and face resolutely closed off but eventually he nodded.

“How did you know we would be there?” Magnus said and if his voice was as cold as it was, it was mostly out of fear.

Alec wasn’t back yet.

And the darkness was starting to clear out outside.

“We knew,” Lydia said. “Sebastian knew you were coming. He knew your whole plan. That’s why we were there.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on tumblr [@lecrit](http://lecrit.tumblr.com/) and on twitter [@_L_ecrit](https://twitter.com/_L_ecrit).
> 
> Next chapter will be up some time next week.
> 
> All the love,  
> L. ❤


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello cupcakes,
> 
> I apologize in advance, to you, to Alec, to Magnus, and to pretty much everyone in this chapter except Sebastard. He can morgenchoke.
> 
> **Please note that this chapter comes with a trigger warning for torture, violence and my baby boy being very, very miserable :(.**
> 
> ~~Happy~~ Angsty reading!
> 
> PS: #lecrit to live-tweet and yell at me about what an awful person I am :).

A bucket of ice water thrown to his face was what brought Alec back to consciousness. He gasped for air and ducked to avoid another spurt, only to realize he couldn’t move, both his wrists bond to heavy chains above his head on opposite sides of the walls of the tiny cell he was in.

He blinked out of his stupor, shaking his head in a vain attempt at removing some of the cold water from his head, the world around him quickly coming back into focus.

There was a fire burning in a corner of the room, and he sagged a little in relief at the heat already starting to warm his cold limbs.

“Good morning, Your Majesty,” Sebastian purred in front of him.

Alec tried to open his mouth, if only to spit at his arrogant face, but his throat was dry, and he ended up coughing instead.

“Water,” he managed to croak out, licking his lips despite himself. “Give me some water.”

“Oh, it’s sweet that you think you’re allowed to make demands here,” Sebastian said with a maniacal grin.

“Well,” Alec said, voice husky, “considering I’m your king, I think I am indeed allowed to.”

This time, Sebastian laughed fully, throwing his head back and Alec tried to free himself from his chains to take advantage of the opportunity laid for him and snap his neck with his bare hands but it only made his wrists twist painfully.

“Alexander,” Sebastian whispered, in a soothing voice that made Alec hate his own name, “you are no one’s king. A man who runs away from his kingdom to fuck a pirate is no one’s king.”

It stung more than Alec would have liked to admit, not because it was true, but because those were cruder versions of words he had told himself time and time again until Magnus had come along to chase his worries away. He wondered if Magnus was fretting already, or if dawn had yet to come.

He had said he would meet him at dawn. He had promised.

“It’s funny how you keep assuming that I’m the only one doing the fucking,” Alec murmured, a mocking smirk curling on his lips, for the sole reason that he knew that if Magnus had been there, he would have laughed and proclaimed how proud he was of having corrupted the king enough to help him dispel his shame and insecurities and bring these words - among other things - to his mouth.

Sebastian pulled a disgusted face and turned around to walk to a small wooden table tucked in a corner of the room. There, he grabbed something that Alec couldn’t see.

“Well, it doesn’t matter because it’s over anyway,” he drawled, whirling back towards Alec. “It will never happen again. I hope you said goodbye properly.”

There was a knife in his hand, long and twisted at the edge. It caught the light of the fire, casting dark shadows under Sebastian’s dark eyes.

“That’s assuming I don’t get out of here,” Alec growled. “So if you want to kill me, you better do it quick because I will be freed and then, I will kill you myself.”

Sebastian feigned a surprised look, his lips parting in mock shock. “Oh, you thought I meant you?” he asked in an apologetic tone. “Oh, of course not, Your Majesty. Of course you are going to get out of here. I am planning on a very public execution for you. We’re just here to have a little fun.”

He paused to look directly at Alec, and his eyes were a perfect mirror to his sadistic nature. “I meant your dearest pirate. I hope you said goodbye, because he is dead.”

Alec flexed his jaw, his teeth gritting with wrath. “You already tried that once and it didn’t work,” he grunted. “I don’t believe you.”

“You poor thing,” Sebastian cooed, reaching out to cup his cheek in his hand. Alec jerked his head to get away from his touch but Sebastian took a fistful of his hair instead, tugging his head backwards. “I knew all about your plan,” he muttered. “You coming in with that traitor Hodge to distract me and some of my guards while your friends were charged of breaking Isabelle, Max and Luke out. Hodge freeing you when the chaos due to the hostages’ escape would have started and taking the opportunity to kill me.”

A sinking sensation creeped into Alec’s every bone, paralyzing him in terror.

“What?” he breathed out.

“You should be more careful who you tell your plans to, Alexander,” Sebastian said. “Now your friends are either dead or imprisoned, and it is all because of your recklessness. It just shows how bad of a king you would have made.”

Alec shook his head, refusing to believe the words he was hearing. “He’s not dead,” he said, but he could perceive his own resolve shattering in his voice.

“But he is,” Sebastian argued. He raised his free hand and Alec shut his eyes, bracing himself for a strike of the knife, but nothing happened. “It’s such a beautiful ring,” Sebastian’s cold, haunting voice muttered. “Too bad it was wasted on a worthless scum.”

Alec’s eyes shot open and as soon as he caught sight of his signet ring, tainted with blood, in Sebastian’s palm, the world fell apart.

_ You’ll give it back at dawn. _

Magnus had nodded, a promise in his ever mesmerizing eyes.

“Don’t worry,” he murmured. “He didn’t suffer. Well, not too much. Not like you’re going to suffer.”

Alec’s vision blurred with tears, the bile rising to his throat, and he shook his head again. “No,” he breathed out.

But it was all he could manage. The air was slowly emptying his lungs as realization dawned on him. Sebastian had known. Someone had betrayed them. They hadn’t been able to get out of the castle. His siblings were still hostages. And Magnus was dead.

Magnus was dead.

Alec tried to suck in a breath, but all he could draw were rapid, shallow pants that did nothing to alleviate the panic rising in him. It was like a vise closing around his mind, numbing any other thought, every parcel of his brain filling with the knowledge that Magnus was gone, that he would never see his smile again, or hear his laugh, or feel the softness of his lips against his own.

He tried to bring his hands down to curl up on himself, wanting nothing more than to sit in a corner and drown in his own sorrow, but the chains didn’t allow him to move, and all he could see was the ring he had given Magnus on Sebastian’s finger, and Sebastian’s wicked grin behind it.

The realness of his loss dawned on him like ice water, ten time more violent than the actual one that had been thrown to his face earlier, surrounding every bone inside him, shutting his body down with absolute devastation.

“No,” he said again, in vain.

He was gone far beyond the realization of his cheeks damped with tears, and even Sebastian’s hands using the knife to rip his shirt off were just a dull feeling, distant and shallow compared to the agony suffocating him.

“Don’t get any ideas, uh,” Sebastian taunted. “I just like watching the blood flow.”

Alec didn’t have the energy to apprehend his words, nor did he have it to scream when the blade drew a line from his ribs to his hipbone.

.

It had taken Lydia five whole minutes to tell them how someone had informed Sebastian of their plan. She spoke in a steady, calculated voice that screamed of the leader she ought to be and it made Magnus’ heart tighten with longing, reminiscing of this exact same tone Alec always used when he threw orders left and right, standing tall on his feet with all the grandeur of the king he was.

When she was done, Jace turned sharply towards Maia and Simon, an accusation in his eyes.

“You,” he growled.

Simon’s arms shot up in defense but Maia just gritted her teeth, and Magnus wondered if she was going to growl.

If Alexander was a panther, smooth and discreet but just as deadly, she was a wolf, wild and confident, as if the concept of death itself was foreign to her. She was fierce, and Magnus could see why Alec had valued her word beyond anyone else’s in their hours of scheming.

“Whatever you’re about to accuse us of, I suggest you keep your mouth shut,” she snapped. “We did not betray you.”

“You’re the only ones who knew every detail of the plan!” Jace blurted out, and Magnus could see in his eyes the same desperation he was feeling himself.

Alec and Hodge were with Sebastian, and if they were still alive, which wasn’t all that evident, the chances were high that Sebastian was already toying with them the way he had with the other children in training in their youth. Alec had told him the story enough times, while explaining relentlessly to him how worried he was about his siblings, for Magnus to feel every bone in his body freeze in horror.

“They’re not the only ones,” Magnus breathed out, and every eye in the room shot up to him. He held his ground, jerking to his feet to pace in the room. “They’re not the only ones.” Wrath took over horror, and he turned to Maia and Simon, a sharp, menacing growl escaping his tight lips. “Where is Iris?”

Simon’s eyes widened, and his eyes darted through the room as if she was going to magically appear in a corner.

Maia whirled to face Ragnor instead.

“She said she had to run an errand to prepare breakfast,” he said, and there was anger in his voice, and a hint of fear as well.

Ragnor had been his friend for many years. He had been a translator on Magnus’ very first pirate ship, before he was even a captain, and he had stood out in the crowd of boorish and loud raiders. Ragnor, like Magnus, had grown up in a castle but unlike him who had had to flee, it was out of choice that Ragnor had experienced the outlaw life. Often, Magnus had wondered if it hadn’t been out of love, too, but Ragnor had never admitted it, even to his closest friend. They were both extravagant in their own ways in a world of peculiarities, so their connection had been immediate. 

Ragnor was the first person Magnus had told his story to, from growing up in a castle to running away from a father who wanted to kill him to avoid both a scandal and an heir he didn’t want of. Ragnor had also been by his side when Magnus had had to slay Asmodeus to defend himself, just like Magnus had been there for him when Ragnor had his own demons to chase. There were very few people on the surface of earth - and Magnus had explored quite a lot of it - that knew him as well as Ragnor did, and even fewer people that knew Ragnor the way Magnus did.

Perhaps was it why the anger in his friend’s voice startled him, but it was definitely the reason why the fear there made the terror already squirming in his stomach increase tenfold.

They had been through many adventures together, and Ragnor was the epitome of calm. His voice never raised in anger - unless it was directed at Magnus - and most importantly, Ragnor was the rock Magnus always relied on to tame his worries and dismays.

If Ragnor was afraid, they all had reasons to be.

“We need to get out of here.”

.

The second time Alec woke up, it took him a moment to recognize his surroundings. He didn’t recall falling asleep, but it made sense quickly. His head had bowed in slumber, and the dry blood slithering from the cuts etched on his chest were evidence enough.

The urge to retch was so strong that his head was spinning, but he didn’t know if it was from the blood loss or the putrid smell shading even the one of the still burning fire at his side.

A hand touched his chin and a glass was brought up to his lips and Alec didn’t hesitate, gulping its content - it was wine, but Alec was too thirsty to second guess it - as quickly as he could. Once he was done, he was given another one that he drank just as greedily; and it was only then that he realized what he had mistaken for a gentle touch was actually a forceful grip, and that the hand belonged to Sebastian. He pondered on the urge to spit the wine in his mouth to his face, but the dryness in his mouth and throat won over, so he didn’t.

“Good morning, Your Majesty.”

Alec frowned. Was it possible that a whole day had gone already?

His cell had no window, and it was plunged into darkness but for the fire blazing. He was exhausted, and the knife had indeed seemed to carve lines through his skin for days, so it was plausible.

“New game today,” Sebastian said, almost cheerfully. “Since you’ve killed Hodge and tried to perpetuate your father’s corrupted ways -”

“You killed Hodge,” Alec tried to snap, but his voice only came out as a faint whisper.

“Well, you and I know that,” Sebastian replied, “but the official story I concocted is much more interesting.” He paused for effect, whirling around to put the empty cup back on the table. “You will love it,” he said with a resolute nod. “It’s all very dramatic. A prince betraying his kingdom, depraved by his outrageous relationship with a filthy pirate and killing his childhood tutor -” he slammed a hand against his chest, eyes broadened in false consternation, ”- Hodge Starkweather, a beknownst and much loved member of the court, to achieve his goal of taking back the throne. You’ll know all the details in due time, but what do you think?”

“Fuck you,” Alec croaked out.

The bemused smile on Sebastian’s face turned into pure insanity as he grabbed a metal bar from the table, striding back the distance between them.

“Now, now, Your Majesty,” he muttered. “I would tell you to keep that for your disgusting pirate but he’s dead, so that’s not happening anytime soon.”

The wine had quenched the dryness in his throat and this time, Alec had no qualm about spitting in his face. The wicked pleasure that brought this simple act was swiped away as Sebastian reached a hand up to his face to wipe it, demented rage raving in his eyes.

“You fucking -”

He didn’t finish, smashing the bar against Alec’s already bruised ribs instead and Alec huffed out in pain, refusing to give him the pleasure of screaming for him.

Sebastian inhaled sharply, shutting his eyes as if to calm himself. “Look, I really need to keep you alive for a few more days so try not to do stuff like that. It really makes me want to kill you.”

Alec scoffed out a scornful laugh. “You should stop talking then, because that’s what hearing you talk does to me. I can’t help it.” His snarling voice sounded foreign to his own ears.

Sebastian hummed in amusement, and he brought the metal bar down again. Alec cringed, bracing himself for the pain, but Sebastian stopped right before he could brush his ribs, a wicked smirk spreading on his face.

“Really Alexander, you should know better than to act like that in front of your king,” he said.

Alec snorted, shaking his head. “You’re as much of a king as your father was an honest man,” he murmured. “I can’t wait to put an arrow between your eyes.”

“You know, that clever mouth of yours is starting to get on my nerves,” Sebastian mused, turning away from him toward the fire. He immersed the tip of the bar into the fire and Alec forced himself to keep breathing. “I think I’d rather hear you scream.”

Alec inhaled deeply, and exhaled, and then repeated the process again. It was mechanical. In, and out. In, and out. And breathe.

“What is this?” he asked through gritted teeth, pushing his raising fear away.

Sebastian seemed almost surprised by the question, and he grinned as he whirled back around, facing him.

“This?” he inquired, shaking the metal bar in his hand.

But Alec didn’t reply, because his eyes were following the tip of it, the scorching letter forming at the end, and he knew.

“Well, since you love pirates that much,” Sebastian hissed, and he seemed to float the rest of the way to him, “I thought you’d like to be one.”

Alec tried to cower away, but the chains stopped him after two steps, and Sebastian just moved forward, grabbing his chin with his free hand.

“So tell me,” he drawled, something like fervent anticipation in his tone. “Who is your king?”

Alec gulped. He had a faint hope that if he told Sebastian a lie, he would step away and leave him be for a few hours, but he knew, as surely as he knew his next words were true, that it was just a vain wish, his mind crying for a semblance of respite.

“My king is dead. You should know; you killed him.”

Sebastian shook his head in disappointment. “That pirate really ruined you,” he sighed. “All that potential wasted for a useless vermin.”

“Magnus is a more honorable man than you could ever hope to be,” Alec hissed and he tried to tug on his restraints, but his whole body was too weak to even coordinate itself to move.

“Was,” Sebastian corrected with a wicked smirk. “He was.”

There was no hesitation in his eyes as he brought the blazing end of the bar to Alec’s wrist. Alec screamed, and his mind screamed with him as the pain drove through his arm and spread through his whole body, even more so when Sebastian brought the tip down again to his hipbone. 

His every thought became confused as the burning pain licked his insides like scorching fire. He screamed and shouted, and bit his tongue to swallow a sob, hard enough to feel a metallic taste in his mouth.

In the end, the thought that prevailed was that perhaps he had deserved this. Magnus had died because of him, and he didn’t know what had happened to his friends and family, but he supposed it was nothing good.

All he wanted was curl up in a ball of self loathing, heartache and pain, dreaming of a time on a deserted island where he had fallen in love and everything had seemed possible then.

All he could think of before he passed out was the memory of Magnus’ lips tasting like mango when they had first kissed, and the agony of knowing he would never feel that way again.

.

Leaving the Hunter’s Moon wasn’t easy, especially for Maia who had built a home and a refuge there, but the urgency of the situation didn’t grant them much of a choice.

It was still early morning when they left, following Luke’s lead who had assured them that he knew the perfect place to hide while they decided the best course of action. Magnus had ditched his pirate gear for the hooded cape Hodge had left behind, and Isabelle and Max had abandoned their formal attire for more casual clothing Simon had managed to find while rummaging through the closets of other occupiers of the inn.

Madzie’s hand firmly tucked in his own, Magnus walked through the streets of the capital with his head bowed and his breath hitching in his throat. His heart was tugging painfully against his chest, and all he could think about was Alec.

He had the foolish thought that he must had been alive, because he was certain he wouldn’t have been able to stand, let alone walk, if Alec was dead. He would have felt it, he was sure, the tearing apart of his insides, the utter desolation, the ravages done to his heart as it felt in a dark abyss.

As long as he hadn’t seen his dead body, Magnus had to believe Alec was still alive, and he would hold on to that cramped dash of hope for as long as he could.

“We’re almost there,” Luke told them, his pace never slowing down.

They were just turning in a corner when a loud voice boomed in the street behind them.

“King Sebastian is officially calling for the people to gather in the castle’s courtyard at midday for an official announcement from the royal balcony,” the town crier blasted, before repeating the words over and over to make sure everyone in town would hear the news.

Magnus gulped hard, urging his heart to steady.

“Oh God,” Isabelle whispered in his back, and he forced himself not to turn around.

He refused to see in her eyes what he had strived to avoid in his own.

He was still breathing, so Alec had to be as well.

“We’re there,” Luke said, pushing a door open.

They all gathered in the small entryway and it was only seconds before another door opened to the side. Magnus barely held back a relieved sigh at the sight of the man standing there.

“Alaric!” Jace exclaimed, surprised.

Alaric motioned for him to keep his voice down and ushered them inside.

There, Magnus had barely the time to figure out what was happening, or to look at their surroundings. A flash of red zoomed before his eyes and Luke was staggering backwards to catch Clary as she jumped to his neck with a relieved cry. Luke wrapped his arms around her immediately, eyes shut as he embraced her. Clary stepped away after a while, only to reserve the same treatment to Jace, who caught her swiftly, burying his nose in her hair.

“I missed you so much,” he murmured, and Magnus darted his eyes away, feeling like he was intruding in a private moment. It made his heart constrict in his chest. It had only been a night since he had last seen Alec, not even a day, but he longed to see him and whisper those same words in his ear.

Alaric cleared his throat, and Magnus was thankful for the distraction. “Have you heard the town crier?”

“He was hard to miss,” Ragnor said, not unkindly. Alaric and he had formed a peculiar friendship through the year they had spent travelling and it was obvious Ragnor was glad to see him alive and well.

“We need to go to the gathering,” Maia said firmly. “To find out what happened to Alec and Hodge.”

Magnus nodded, and turned to point a finger at Isabelle and Max. “You are staying here, though.”

Isabelle lifted a defiant eyebrow. “Magnus, the fact that Alec lets you boss him around doesn’t mean you’re allowed to do it with the rest of the royal family.”

There was no animosity in her voice, more a fond teasing, so Magnus rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. “Alec took the risks he did to ensure you were safe,” he said. “And safe you will remain, or everything we all did would have been for nothing.”

Isabelle pursed her lips in annoyance, levelling him with a stern glare.

“Plus, someone has to look after little Madzie,” Magnus added with a softer tone, gently poking the little girl in the ribs. She giggled, squirming away from him, a playful spark in her eyes.

It was a poor argument. The real one happened between the glares they exchanged, an unspoken conversation made of shifting in their eyes and rising eyebrows but eventually, Isabelle simmered down.

“Fine,” she growled. “But I want every detail when you come back and I’ll know if you’re lying to me.”

.

The screeching of the door pulled Alec out of his daze, but he was awake enough this time to see Sebastian walk towards him and as much as he hated himself for it, he recoiled, the chains not allowing him to go further than two steps.

Sebastian chuckled darkly, and stopped right in front of him, his arms up over his head. There was a clicking sound over his head but Alec only realized it was the lock of his bonds being undone when his arms slouched at his side. When the other one was freed as well, it was all he could do before his legs gave out and he collapsed on the ground, his whole body screaming in pain.

“Oh, don’t be dramatic,” Sebastian snarled, rolling his eyes.

Alec inhaled deeply, pushing on his palms to sit, his head spinning. His stomach growled, and he knew he would have thrown up if he had had anything to vomit.

“Get up,” Sebastian said, bending down to grab him under the arm and haul him to his feet. “I’m feeling merciful.”

He didn’t explain further, dragging Alec after him as he walked out of the cell and up the stairs to the first floor. Alec could only follow, his mind too desolated to protest and his body too feeble to fight. He was vaguely aware of passing by a few guards, but he couldn’t focus on any of their faces for long enough to seek their help.

“Where are you taking me?” he managed to ask, in a hoarse voice that made him cringe internally.

Sebastian didn’t answered, flinging a door open and throwing him inside.

Alec frowned as he recognized the room, and he reached up to rub his eyes, but he quickly realized he wasn’t imagining things. In the middle of the room sat a fuming bath, and at his side stood a young dark-skinned woman with long brown hair dressed in the attire of the domestics of the castle, head bowed reverently.

“You have an hour,” Sebastian said, and turned around at once, slamming the door shut behind him.

Alec waited until the sound of his footsteps was only a faint echo in his head before he released a relieved sigh.

He strode the room to join the girl. “Maureen,” he said, aware of the desperation in his tone. “You’ve got to help me get out of here.”

It made sense for Sebastian to assume someone of Alec’s rank wouldn’t be acquainted with the domestics and servants, otherwise he wouldn’t have left Alec with Maureen, who had grown up in the castle alongside them, her mother being the head servant. He had no doubt that if he had known Alec was friendly with them, he would have rolled his eyes and pulled a disgusted face.

She shook her head vehemently, averting her eyes to focus on unfastening his pants instead. Alec stopped her with a firm grip on her wrist.

“Maureen,” he called again, but she didn’t look up.

“I’m here to help you bathe, Sir,” she muttered, pointing a finger at the steaming water.

“I can take a fucking bath on my own,” Alec gritted out through clenched teeth. “Look at me.”

She did, rising big, frightened brown eyes to his face and Alec’s mouth fell open.

Once, Maureen had been one of the most beautiful girls in the castle. Her brown eyes were kind and full of joy, and her long, curly hair had drawn the jealousy of many. She was petite, but fierce. The woman Alec was staring at had no fierceness left in her, and the joy had left her gaze, a hollow pit replacing it.

“What did he do to you?” Alec asked in a breath, gulping hard.

Maureen shook her head again. “King Sebastian wants me to help you bathe, Sir,” she repeated in a faint voice.

Alec held back a frustrated groan, running a hand over his face instead. With a sigh, he shrugged off his shredded clothes and slip into the warm tub. He sat down, biting his bottom lip on a pained moan when the clear water flew against the cuts on his chest and back, tears rising to his eyes before he could stop them. He watched crimson taint the limpidness and let Maureen gently scrub his skin, burying his face in his hands.

Her touch was gentle, but unwelcome. He let her do so anyway, unable to fight against it. She was a victim, too, and he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to fight for if it was bound to end up in a failure anyway.

He had failed his siblings, leaving them amidst the claws of a lunatic.

He had failed his friends, people he barely knew but cared for beyond understanding, and they were either dead or imprisoned for having taken part in a feud between the aristocrats they hated in the first place.

He had failed his kingdom, had given up on his people, leaving to lead them a mad man whose wickedness only equaled his sadism.

He had failed Magnus, whom he had sworn, if only inwardly, to go through all the clashes and battles for, whom he had loved for the first and last time of his life, in ways books, poems and songs would never be able to tell.

If Maureen saw the tears streaming down his face, she didn’t comment on it. Her touch got gentler, however, and as she cleansed his beaten body, Alec wondered if there was hope for his shattered heart.

.

The crowd flowed down the wide avenue all the way to the courtyard of the castle and Magnus, Maia and Jace had no trouble blending in. The faces of the people around them were either grave or curious, but apart from hushed whispers and the sounds of boots blaring on the pavement, it was utterly silent. It added a grim solemnity to the atmosphere, and it certainly didn’t help alleviate Magnus’ worry.

They gathered in the courtyard as one big mass of people from all over the town, but Magnus didn’t focus on any of them, his eyes riveted to the royal balcony. The place was surrounded by guards in uniforms, but even that didn’t manage to catch his attention.

A bell was just striking noon in the distance when the door to the balcony opened and Sebastian stepped out. He was wearing Robert’s crown on his head and a fancy deep blue jacket adorned with golden embroideries that clashed with his porcelain skin. His hair was neatly combed backwards and his smile was blinding as he waved at the crowd.

He received a few cheers, but most of the people were too intrigued about what was going on to react.

“Good people of Alicante,” Sebastian exclaimed, voice loud and preposterous to reach everyone at his feet. “Welcome.”

Maia snorted next to him, crossing her arms over her chest, utterly unimpressed, and it managed to tear a small smile out of Magnus.

“I have gathered you all here today to share a news with you,” he announced, taking a step closer to lean against the stone banister. “Prince Alexander has finally returned.”

A collective gasp wedged through the crowd, and murmurs started to rise, but Sebastian quickly shut them down.

“I have been your king in replacement of King Robert the Nefarious for over a month now,” he continued, “as we were waiting for the heir to return to the capital, but I am afraid Prince Alexander is no more a suitable leader than his father was.”

Sebastian promptly swirled around, opening the door behind him and muttering a few words they couldn’t hear from the courtyard. Magnus’ breath caught in his throat as Alec stepped outside to join Sebastian, his face a mask of cold impassivity.

“Alexander,” he breathed out, his heartbeats quickening.

His face looked mostly unscathed but for the few bruises and the cut still baring his forehead, but he was limping slightly, and Magnus knew him enough to perceive the pained twitch at the corner of his lips.

“What did he do to him?”

Alec’s wrists were bound in front of him and despite the distance, Magnus could see him rub his fingers together. Whether it was out of rage, or something else entirely, he didn’t know.

He stood tall on his feet, towering a good head above Sebastian and even then, he exuded of the dignity and majesty Magnus knew him to possess.

He wore black only, a color meant to deprive him from his royal rank, but he still looked more of a king than Sebastian could ever hope to.

Magnus hadn’t realized he had moved forward until a strong grip halted him mid-step. Jace shook his head slightly, and Magnus gritted his teeth, rolling back on his heels.

“Prince Alexander has shown the same corrupted ways as his father before him,” Sebastian went on, his voice echoing against the grim walls of the castle. “But where his father still respected a few of our laws or morals, Alexander has abandoned them all.”

He paused for effect, and Magnus fisted his own cape between his hands to prevent them from shaking.

“If we can snatch a bow from one of the guards, I can put an arrow through his head,” he murmured to Jace and Maia. “Alexander taught me and I’m a natural.”

“And we’d all be dead,” Jace muttered back. “Magnus, I want to do something just as much as you do, but we need a plan.”

If Jace was starting to be the rational, level-headed one instead of Magnus, he was gone further than he had thought.

“Prince Alexander has depraved himself by allowing himself to get involved with a pirate,” Sebastian announced, and another wave of whispers ran through the crowd. “A  _ male _ pirate. He has admitted to bedding the pirate Magnus Bane, whose execution he stopped last year with his father’s approval.” 

This time, it was a collegial gasp that resounded through the courtyard. Magnus ducked his head, inhaling deeply through his nose.

“It turns out King Alexander would have been more of a queen,” Sebastian said airily, in a joking tone that made Magnus’ blood boil.

“Never mind,” Jace growled. “I’ll shoot that arrow myself.”

Maia grabbed his hand before he could move, and Jace released a deep breath. His eyes were shining with unshed frustrated tears, his whole demeanor screaming of a scorching rage.

Magnus related perfectly.

“Do you have anything to say in your defence?” Sebastian asked, turning around to face Alec, slamming a hand in his back.

It was only because Magnus was watching him as closely as he did that he noticed Alec cringing in pain. It only lasted a second, and then he was tipping his chin up, looking straight in front of him.

“I don’t answer to you,” Alec said, voice equally steady and tempestuous. “The only authority I recognize is the one of the Clave.”

Sebastian smiled, seemingly unfazed. He whirled back around but his eyes stayed even, gazing somewhere at the back of the crowd.

“Lady Herondale,” he called out, “as the Head of the Clave, what would you do of this information?”

The crowd turned as one to glance up at the woman who was standing in the rostrum behind them. She was rather old, but Magnus thought she probably seemed older than she truly was because of her stern appearance. Her hair was pulled back in a strict bun, and she bore the wrinkles of the ones who hadn’t laughed enough.

“Homosexuality is not forbidden,” she said, unaffected by the attention set on her. “King Robert abrogated that law thirteen years ago.”

“We wonder why,” Sebastian said with snarling scorn.

“As long as the king has an heir of royal blood, he is free to… bed anyone he likes,” she concluded with a grimace that made her own opinion quite clear. “As long as it doesn’t get in the way of his duties, of course.”

“Would you say bedding a beknownst pirate, who has been proven to be the murderer of Lord Asmodeus of the South land of Pandemonium and has been accused of many illegal trading and plundering is ‘getting in the way of his duties’?” Sebastian asked, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“I would say so,” Imogen replied. Magnus heaved out, his nails digging in his palms painfully. “But I didn’t know we were attending Prince Alexander’s trial today,” she added sternly. “Otherwise, I would have brought my judge attire.”

“Oh, my Lady, you are only here to enlighten us,” Sebastian said with a sweet smile that somehow seemed lethal. “I am the king now, and I’m afraid Alexander sealed his own fate when he tried to kill me after murdering Sir Hodge Starkweather.”

This time, Jace joined in the crowd’s gasp, his eyes widening.

Even from the distance, Magnus saw the sorrow flash in Alec’s eyes, and any doubt he could have had vanished instantly.

“He also had his friends, including the pirate Magnus Bane, kidnap his sister Isabelle and his brother Max to take them away -” Alec’s eyes widened, and Magnus frowned in confusion at his reaction, “- and make sure the throne would be his only and that he would encounter no resistance when he’d try to uphold the filthy and depraved ideas his pirate whore would whisper in his ear.”

“Whore?” Magnus echoed in an affronted murmur. “Please, as if you needed to pay me to whisper filthy things in his ear.”

“We know, Magnus,” Jace deadpanned, a hint of amusement layering his tone.

“There was a lot of nonsense and lies in what you just affirmed,” Alec said out loud, a challenge in his eyes as he finally gazed at Sebastian, levelling him with an unimpressed look, “but I can assure you I never had to spend a single cent to experience the pleasure of Magnus’ company.”

Jace snickered under his breath, and Magnus heaved out a relieved breath. Somehow, this was more comforting than the strong sternness in Alec’s shoulders as he stood tall on his feet. Alec was a proud man, and he had been raised to be king. There weren’t many people in front of which he allowed himself to drop the facade. Sebastian could attempt to break his posture all he wanted - and Magnus shuddered at the mere idea - but as long as Alec was able to back talk with all the verve Magnus had fallen in love with, he knew he hadn’t managed to break his mind just yet.

Alec seemed about to open his mouth to say something else but Sebastian nudged him forward against the banister, his eyes flashing with utter rage as his hand slipped in his back discreetly. He seemed to murmur something for his ears only, and Alec’s mouth shut abruptly, pain and sorrow dancing in his eyes.

Magnus had to bite on the inside of his cheek to hold back tears.

Sebastian scoffed, waving his other hand towards the crowd gathered in the courtyard.

“He doesn’t even deny it!” he exclaimed.

“Fight back,” Magnus murmured, his eyes riveted on Alec, who had now ducked his head, his jaw flexing gingerly. “Fight back, my love.”

But Alec stayed uncharacteristically quiet, and Magnus’ heart sunk.

“By acquainting himself with pirates the way he did,” Sebastian announced, his voice shutting out the remaining shocked whispers in the courtyard, “and by murdering Sir Starkweather with no motive or other reason than the thrill to kill, Prince Alexander has made himself one of them. He is now a pirate.”

Without further ado, he pushed Alec against the banister and grabbed the sleeve of his black shirt, shoving it up to expose the skin of his wrist.

There, a daunting P laid, conflicting with the pale skin, still burned from the novelty of the wound. Sebastian made sure to linger long enough for everyone to see the mark - or to surmise it for the people who were too far away to see properly - but eventually he released Alec, who rushed to tug his sleeve down, chewing on his bottom lip.

“Fight back,” Magnus pleaded, his voice cracking in despair.

Jace gulped next to him, wrapping his fingers around Magnus’ own marked wrist. “We’re going to get him out of here,” he murmured. “I don’t care if it’s the last thing I do.”

Magnus nodded gingerly, blinking up again to scan Alec’s features. He had taken a step back, tugging on the rope around his hands, clearly to avoid the friction with his burned skin.

“He is a pirate,” Sebastian proclaimed. “And what have we always done to pirates before King Robert decided to tear apart our laws and give in to his son’s whims by freeing the most dangerous of them?”

“Now he’s just trying to flatter me,” Magnus growled.

“We sentence them to death,” Sebastian finished, lowering his voice for effect. “I can’t forget Prince Alexander’s blood. He remains of royal blood, and thus he will not be hanged like a mere pirate. He will be decapitated on Saturday, at the twelfth ring of the bell, the way our traditions ask for.”

“You can’t do this!” Imogen boomed, jerking up to her feet. “You cannot kill our king without proof of what you’re accusing him of!”

Sebastian actually startled at that but he quickly recovered, his brow furrowing in a grave expression.

“Your… king?” he hissed, lifting an eyebrow. “Your king? Him?” He turned to point a finger at Alec, who pursed his lips in answer.

Sebastian chuckled, and swirled back around to face Imogen, his mirth dying in his throat as pure, unabashed wrath distorted his features. “I am your king!” he yelled. “And you better remember it if you don’t want to join him on the gallows on Saturday! His silence is enough of a proof! I don’t need more than that, and neither should you!”

“Impostor!” someone yelled in the crowd.

“Usurper!” another one claimed, followed by a wave of approving shouts.

Magnus watched as Alec’s eyes widened, as if he had already admitted defeat, persuaded that his people would turn their backs on him. But where Magnus had expected reborn fervor, he could only read untamable fear in Alec’s gaze.

“Oh God,” he breathed out as realization dawned on him, a second after it had seemingly hit Alec. “We need to get out of here.”

“What?” Jace said, not bothering to murmur to hide his voice among the crowd’s protests. “This is finally getting good.”

Magnus shook his head, desperately. “Sebastian is going to kill them if they don’t stop,” he said urgently. “He’s going to pick the loudest ones and have them killed to set an example. We need to get out of here before it gets out of hands.”

“But Alec -”

“We will get him back,” Magnus assured him. “I’ve collected a lot of favors throughout the years and I know just the one to call in this time.”

Jace nodded, elbowing through the growing agitation of the crowd to open them a way out.

Magnus followed him, his heart in shreds, casting a glance over his shoulder. Alec was shaking his head, eyes blown in dread. He could read the word ‘no’ escaping from his lips over and over again.

“Enough,” Alec yelled finally, and Magnus was struck with the echo of his father’s voice booming the same word to halt his own execution.

Jace stopped dead in his tracks, swirling around to face the balcony again. At Alec’s side, Sebastian had a hand raised, as if ready to give the destructive order to the guards.

Alec was panting, and there was nothing but utter devastation in his voice as he spoke. “I will accept my fate,” he said, voice grave and solemn as he looked over the angry faces of his people. “Please, do not put yourselves into harm’s way for me.” He paused, licking at his lips. “If anything, and if your love for my family reaches far enough for you to fight today, use that courage to make sure my sister and brother stay safe, away from the castle. This is all I ask of you.”

Up until that point, Magnus had never understood the power of sacrifice, and the respect that was bound to it.

The agitation died almost immediately, and the crowd stared up at Alec as one and unique person, a combination of awe and apprehension in their gaze.

Perhaps was it just that uncommon to come upon a selfless king.

The silence enveloped them and soon, only remained the distant repercussion of the waves crashing on the shore, and the wind whistling between the trees of the forest on the other side of the castle.

Alec’s words hung in the air, and seemed to bring the crowd into a sense of sweet and inevitable surrender.

Unaware of the rise and fall of his chest, Magnus stared at Alec with the mass, wondering why he had doomed himself by falling in love with a magnanimous man, and even more why he had never once regretted it, even not now that his heart was breaking with his own. Especially not now.

“Long live the King,” Magnus murmured under his breath, shaking his head in fond exasperation.

A single tear slipped down his cheek as Sebastian seemed to recover, lowering his arm to grab Alec’s and drag him towa rds the door to get back inside.

“Long live the King!” Jace repeated behind him, but unlike Magnus, he shouted the words, with all the wrath and determination Magnus could feel twirling in his stomach.

Alec paused and his head shot to the side, his eyes widening as he darted a look back to the crowd, searching for a familiar face.

“Long live the King!” the crowd repeated after Jace, three times as the tradition called for.

It swallowed the sound of the door slamming shut after Sebastian and Alec, but even after he disappeared and they started walking back to their safe house, Magnus could still surmise the dash of hope he had seen flickering in Alec’s hazels.

“He doesn’t know we made it out,” he breathed out. He grabbed Jace’s arm, tugging to haul him backwards. “Alec doesn’t know we made it out!”

“He probably thinks we’re dead,” Maia said with narrowing eyes. “That’s why he looked so defeated.”

“Well, we’re not dead,” Jace growled, “and it looks like we have another execution to stop.”

“I still owe him a debt, after all,” Magnus finished, trailing back into the crowd to walk out.

And Magnus Bane always paid his debts.

.

Jace. It had been Jace’s voice, Alec was sure of it. It had been Jace’s voice, in the crowd, and Sebastian had said his friends had kidnapped his siblings, so it meant they were out. Isabelle and Max were out, and Jace was as well, because it had been his voice. There was no doubt. It had been Jace’s voice.

If Jace was safe and somewhere out there, then maybe Magnus…

No, Alec told himself, gritting his teeth to hold back tears. False hopes would only make it all worse.

He was back in the darkness of his cell, his hands locked in the chains once more, Sebastian pacing back and forth in front of him, grumbling under his breath. His rage had built like a thunderstorm, creeping at first and then inevitably turbulent.

“Fucking peasants,” he was muttering, seething.

“You lied to me,” Alec said, still getting accustomed to the knowledge that his siblings were all away from the castle. “They escaped. They made it out.”

Sebastian stopped in his tracks, but only to stride the distance between them and slam his fist in Alec’s cheek. “Shut up!” he roared.

Alec took the blow without a noise, pushing past the pain to glance back into Sebastian’s eyes. He wanted to ask, the question burning at the tip of his tongue, but there was no point. He would only collect more lies, and he wasn’t sure he would be able to discern the truth even if Sebastian were to tell it.

“I am the king!” he yelled in Alec’s face.

Alec angled his head to wipe his mouth against the sleeve of the black shirt Maureen had helped him put on.

“And they will know it,” Sebastian added spitefully. “You will die on Saturday, and when your headless body is buried with your worthless parents, I will send my troops to find your sister and I will marry her. And then, no one will be able to deny my eminence. They will love me, or they will fear me.”

Once, when he was still a little boy stumbling into the life that had been traced for him, Alec had had many doubts. Jace had been a better fighter, and where Alec had been reserved and discreet, he had shone with the glory of purpose. He had convinced himself that Jace would make a better sovereign. People loved him as soon as he opened his mouth, his arrogance easily shaded away by his wit and charms. But Jace had told him time and time again that he couldn’t see himself being in Alec’s shoes and taking on his shoulders the burden of responsibilities his rank entailed.

Then, Alec had thought about withdrawing to let Isabelle assume his role. She had seemed more suited, her stubbornness and fierce intelligence being mere hints of the great leader she could be. She had always been kind, too, no matter where people came from, and she had been the one to teach Alec the virtue of tolerance.

It was with a head full of doubts but the conviction that he wasn’t meant to rule that Alec had confronted his father, claiming that when he came of age to do so, he would surrender the throne to one of his more fitted siblings.

Robert had smiled, that small, bemused smile of his that only existed among his family and close friends, and had beckoned Alec closer. He could still reminder his ten-year-old self staggering to stand in front of his father in the council room, brows furrowed in determination.

“Being King is not about the blood that runs in your veins,” he had said, voice soft but inflexible, “nor is it about being the best fighter, the most intelligent one or the kindest one. It’s about fairness, about building bridges, about letting an old world crumble if it means building a better one. It is about being comfortable with conflict, whether it is moral or legal, but refusing to let it make of you a grave digger. It’s a whole. A king needs his head, his body, his stomach and his heart and you are lucky enough to know how to make good use of all of these. First and foremost, a king is just a man and you, my son, will be a great man. There is no better heir to me than you. Of that I have no doubt.”

His words had echoed in Alec’s head for days, weeks, years after that but never had they made more sense that when Hodge had delivered the news of his father’s passing and he had felt the burden of his birthright fall upon his shoulders.

“If you think this is what a king is about,” he said matter-of-factly, “then you will make a worse one than I thought. The people is better at seeing this than you and I could ever hope to. Show them a true king and they will praise him. Show them a fool, and they will endure.” He tipped his chin up, levelling Sebastian with an impassible glare. “But show them a tyrant,” he murmured, “and they will wreak chaos upon him.”

Surprisingly, Sebastian didn’t laugh, or hit him again. He didn’t smirk, and his eyes didn’t flash with anger. Instead, his features relaxed into an impassible mask.

He took a step closer, and tilted his head to the side.

“I will show them chaos,” he whispered, “and I will start with jamming your head on a stick above the doors so they all know what happens to those who defy me. You don’t control people with sentiments, Your Majesty. You control them with fear.”

He reached out to wrap his fingers around Alec’s throat, his hold leisurely tightening, cutting off his breath. “You show them that their miserable, depraved life lies in the palm of your hand.”

Alec choked on air, and tried to kick him away, but Sebastian dodged the blow without much of an effort.

“And just when they think you are merciful enough to put an end to their sufferings, you give them a semblance of hope,” he murmured, releasing him. Alec’s breath seemed to stutter in his lungs before it came out in sporadic, hectic pants.

“And then,” Sebastian purred, his grip tightening once more, strong enough to catch Alec by surprise, “you take it all away again.”

His hands felt like ice around Alec’s neck, and the tighter his grip got, the crazier his gaze went, both unyielding. As his lungs began to burn from the lack of air, Alec tried to kick him again, dark spots dancing in front of his eyes. He wasn’t sure if the tears streaming down his face were of frustration, rage or pure terror, but they streamed all the same, as he tried vainly to fill his lungs again. Then, his legs went limp, and his sight blurred completely, leaving only darkness to surround him.

Sebastian released him abruptly, and Alec would have collapsed to the ground if it wasn’t for the chains ripping at the skin of his wrists.

“Enjoy the next five days, Your Majesty,” Sebastian said, cold and pleased all at once. “They will be your last.”

The creaking of the gate shutting after him didn’t matter. Seconds later, Alec knew no more.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know you love me.
> 
> Yelling happens on tumblr [@lecrit](http://lecrit.tumblr.com/) and on twitter [@_L_ecrit](https://twitter.com/_L_ecrit).
> 
>  
> 
> All the love,  
> Satan. ❤


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello cupcakes!
> 
> This is still angsty and contains violence. It's not as bad as chapter four, though.
> 
> There will be one more chapter + the epilogue.
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> Ps: as always, #lecrit to live-tweet.

The winter nights were quick to fall, and by the time Jace and Maia were done recounting the balcony scene to Isabelle, Luke and consors, it was pitch dark outside. Magnus was sitting on the window sill that gave on the small garden, the only one that didn’t have shutters, Madzie quietly sitting on his lap, both of them observing the starry night in silence. 

Charcoal black was covered in thousands and millions of bright dots, joined in an endless void of light. It was breathtaking, the constellations and intricate patterns Ragnor had taught Magnus about shaping in the onyx sky and dissolving behind the hill that led to the shore.

Wherever Alec was, Magnus hoped he could see it, and that it brought him hope, reminding him of the nights they had spent together travelling on the royal ship, staring at the sky late into the evening by the window above their bed, confessing their deepest and darkest secrets in hushed voices.

“Is Alec coming back?” Madzie asked in a small voice, tilting her head up to glance at him. “Where’s Nana?”

Magnus gazed back at her, focusing his attention on braiding her hair cautiously instead of the carved black panther in her hands.

“Nana is gone, sweet pea,” he muttered. “She did a bad thing and she angered a lot of people, so she ran away.”

Madzie seemed to consider it for a second, her brows furrowed in reflection, but she nodded eventually and turned back to let Magnus work on her hair. “And Alec?” she inquired, hesitant.

“He’ll be back,” Magnus murmured. “We’re going to get him back.”

“Okay,” she said, with a tenacity that made Magnus startle, an adamant spark in her deep brown eyes that reminded him of Alec. He smiled despite himself and gestured to her finished braid with a flourish. “Voilà, my lady!”

Madzie giggled, already toying with the bow holding her hair together.

“Magnus!” Jace called out from the other side of the room.

He looked down at the little girl with a bored expression. “I’ll be right back,” he said softly, grabbing her under the arms to lift her up so he could put his feet back on the ground. “How about you try to see how many of the constellations I taught you you can remember while I’m gone?”

Madzie nodded eagerly, and turned back towards the window. Magnus walked back to the rest of the group and frowned at the sight of Jace’s irritated expression. He lifted an eyebrow in inquiry.

“You said you could call in a favor,” the blonde grumbled, pointedly avoiding to glance at anyone but him.

Magnus leaned against the wall that faced the table they had gathered around. “Yeah,” he said. “Alec is royalty. No matter how set Sebastian is on setting his own rules, he has to respect the traditions. He can’t have Alec hanged, he said it himself. Royals who are sentenced to death can’t be executed by the first bypasser, or by the castle’s regular hangman. I think we can use it in our advantage. If I can -”

“ _ If _ you can?” Isabelle echoed dubiously. “And what if you can’t? We don’t have the liberty of counting on ifs, Magnus.”

He levelled her with an impassible gaze. “I just need to get the missive to my contact.”

“You can’t go out,” Simon chimed in. “Sebastian has increased the controls in and around the city.”

Alaric nodded sternly, arms crossed over his chest. “He’s right. Anyone with a pirate mark is arrested and immediately thrown in jail to await execution, even repented ones.”

Magnus heaved out a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I can sneak out of the city at night,” he said. “I know how to become invisible.”

“And if you get arrested, we won’t know until it is too late,” Isabelle replied. “He won’t take the risk of executing you publicly after last year’s fiasco.”

“Well, I came out alive so I wouldn’t call it a fiasco,” Magnus quipped.

Jace and Maia snorted, probably more used to his antics than Isabelle was. He forgot, sometimes, that he wasn’t really acquainted with her as well as he was with Jace. Alec had talked about her so often, and so highly, that it was easy to dismiss the fact that he had only known her for two weeks before he had left with Alec on their diplomatic mission.

“We need a plan B,” Luke said with a nod.

“I have a plan B,” Isabelle retorted at once, and Jace groaned in disapproval. “It’s a plan A, even.”

Magnus’ brows furrowed. “Let’s hear it then, darling.”

“I’m going to marry Sebastian.”

Magnus was pretty sure he would have spat out even rum if he had been able to eat or drink anything, his throat too dry to allow either.

His shock was such that for a while, he just stared at Isabelle with blown eyes and his jaw hanging, finding slight comfort in the fact that everyone else seemed to suffer from the same predicament.

“What?” he yelled eventually. “Are you insane?”

“Thank you!” Jace exclaimed, waving a hand towards Magnus but his eyes glaring at his adopted sister pointedly.

“I will go to the castle and I will tell Sebastian I will marry him if he accepts to exile Alec instead of executing him,” Isabelle said, her lips tugged into a thin line. Her dark eyes were unflinching, and Magnus was hit with another wave of nostalgia, his stomach twisting painfully.

“He could just force you to marry him and behead Prince Alexander anyway,” Luke said, just as firmly.

“Not with the people already against him,” Isabelle argued. “It is a perfect bargain for him. He will look merciful for sparing Alec’s life, and he will fix his problem of legitimacy by marrying into the royal family.”

“He’s a fucking psychopath!” Jace boomed. “I won’t let you do this!”

“Well, it’s not your choice to make,” Isabelle retorted. “I’m an adult, in case you’ve forgotten.”

“Isabelle,” Magnus called out softly, pushing off the wall to approach her, slowly and carefully.

It was obvious that she was hurting, just like Jace was, just like he was himself. And the hurt didn’t come solely from knowing Alec between a maniac’s claws; it was, mostly, the powerlessness from it, the urge to do something while unable to without risking ending up locked up alongside Alec.

“Alec is where he is because he cares for his family more than anything else in the world,” he told her, every word measured and uttered delicately. “He took the risks he took to free you and your brother, because he couldn’t bear the thought of you being at Sebastian’s mercy. You didn’t see the relief on his face when he realized you and little Max had made it out. Knowing you sacrificed yourself to have him  _ potentially _ freed - and there is no certitude of that - will only hurt him more.”

“Then what do you suggest?” she exclaimed, eyes filling with frustrated tears. “I can’t just sit here and do nothing while my brother is being tortured!”

“I know,” Magnus murmured as he reached her, gently leaning a hand on her shoulder. “Trust me, I’d rather be right there with him, even if that means enduring the same things he is, but I would be of no help there, just like you would be of no help if you go through with your idea. We would be back where it started, but ten times worse.”

Isabelle seemed to ponder on his words, her throat bobbing as she swallowed past a sob. “I just -” she started, but stopped herself, inhaling deeply to compose herself. “I just need to do something,” she breathed out. “My parents were murdered and I couldn’t do anything. I- I can’t… I can’t let it happen again. I can’t -”

Magnus clenched his teeth and stepped forward at last, wrapping his arms around her. Isabelle gripped handfuls of his shirt and let herself be held. She didn’t cry, but her breathing got heavier by the second and Magnus knew it was just because it wasn’t an habit of hers. Or perhaps was it that she had already shed too many tears.

“We will get him back, darling,” Magnus vowed, voice pitched low, hand rubbing soothing circles in her back. “But the solution is not to throw ourselves in the lion’s den.”

Isabelle nodded against his neck.

Magnus squared his jaw, turning his head to look at the rest of the group.

“I will deliver your letter, Sir,” Alaric said, bowing his head respectfully.

Magnus quirked an eyebrow, throwing a disbelieving look at Ragnor. “He called me Sir.”

“Your father would be proud,” Ragnor snorted, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips when Magnus flipped him off. “I will go to Island Dumort and see if I can find a misfit or two who can help.”

Magnus acquiesced. “We will build up the plan here,” he said. “Jace and Isabelle know the castle and everything about your old-fashioned traditions, and Luke knows the methods of the Clave better than anyone. We’ll find the loopholes where they are to be found. Send us your reply as soon as you have it.”

Ragnor and Alaric both nodded, and promptly left upstairs to gather their things.

Magnus released Isabelle when she slowly pushed away from his chest.

“I thought pirates smelled bad,” she mumbled. “Why do you smell like spring?”

“He’s the king of the pirates,” Jace commented, smirking.

“Exactly,” Magnus replied. “I have a reputation to uphold, dear.”

Isabelle chuckled, shaking her head, but when she glanced back up at him, there was nothing but fierce determination in her eyes. When he turned towards Jace, he found the exact same spark, one he knew was mirrored in his own gaze, and somehow, it managed to ease something in his chest.

.

Alec was quick to lose all sense of time and space. The cell was dark and the everlasting silence was only interrupted every now and then by the cries of prisoners being led to their death. For a while - it had seemed to be hours, but Alec had no mean to know for sure - there had been whimpering, a female voice weeping to beg to be able to see her husband one last time, but her implorations had remained unanswered.

If anything, the only things keeping him grounded were the pain lancing through his whole body and the knowledge that his siblings were away from the castle, and safe. He tried not to think about Magnus and his fate, but his mind kept wandering back to him anyway.

He didn’t know what was going to happen, couldn’t imagine that no one would try to rescue him on Saturday, but if he were to die according to Sebastian’s plan, he found solace in the fact that he would find Magnus in the afterlife, no matter how arduous and sinuous the path.

For now, he would cherish the memories, holding close to his heart the peace he had found in Magnus’ deep brown eyes, the sinful edge of his tempting lips when they curved into a smirk, the lightness of his laugh when Alec was lucky enough to ignite one of them, and the devoted confessions whispered beneath the starry nights.

The gates of his cell screeched and Alec couldn’t hold back a relieved sigh when he realized it wasn’t Sebastian paying him one of his morbid visits, but Maureen. Her hair was a mess of curls and as she advanced toward him, her head was bowed, but it wasn’t out of respect like Alec was used to. It was in shame, he supposed, and above any resentment or frustration, it made him feel sorry for her.

“Your Royal Highness,” she murmured in greeting.

It made Alec tick, somehow. It was how he had been addressed his whole life, but the last few days, he had grown accustomed to his new title, if only because Hodge had refused to call him anything but Your Majesty. It made him long to go back to these days, too, when his responsibilities stopped where his father’s begun. When everything had been significantly less complicated, and all he had had to worry about was finding a way to earn the right to preserve Magnus’ affection towards him forever.

“Hey, Maureen,” he called back, his voice cracking with exhaustion.

“King Sebastian asked me to bring you this down,” she said, holding up the plate in her hands.

It smelled heavenly, but Alec couldn’t be certain it wasn’t the result of his starved condition.

“What day is it?” he asked in lieu of an answer.

“Monday.”

Alec frowned. It had only been two days. It seemed like an eternity had gone by.

Maureen didn’t say a word as she strode the distance between them with careful, measured steps. She held a fork of mashed potatoes to his mouth, and Alec pushed past the humiliation behind the gesture, hunger running through his whole body too strongly for him to find the strength to protest.

When he was done, she made him drink a tall glass of water.

“What did he do to you?” he asked in a whisper.

Maureen shook her head, holding the cup to his lips. “Drink, Sir,” she said softly. “You need to stay hydrated.”

Alec quirked an eyebrow. “I’m going to die soon anyway,” he argued weakly. “What did he do to you?”

She opened her mouth to answer, her gaze still stubbornly refusing to meet his own, but just as she was about to talk, footsteps resounded through the corridor and she froze, her eyes widening in terror.

“Goodbye, Sir,” she sputtered, and swiftly turned around.

“Maureen, wait!” he exclaimed.

She was already gone.

.

“Izzy, is Alec going to die?”

Magnus hadn’t meant to pry. He was walking back to his room to get some well-needed sleep when he heard Max’ innocent voice and he froze at once, his heart clenching in his throat. Curiosity got the best of him and before he could stop himself, he was peeking through the small gap left by the ajar door of the bedroom. Isabelle was sitting on the bed next to little Max, and although he was already tucked under the covers, his eyes were wide and awake, unbearing of even a hint of fatigue, although Magnus reckoned it was at the prize of maximum effort.

“Of course not,” Isabelle replied at once. Her long hair was half hiding Max from view, but it was enough for Magnus to see the fear in the little prince’s gaze. “We’re going to save him, because that’s what we do. We have each other’s back.”

“That’s what Mother always said, but she’s dead,” Max remarked cleverly.

Magnus shut his eyes for a moment, cursing - not for the first time, nor the last - Sebastian Morgenstern’s entire existence. If given the opportunity, he would gladly give him a taste of his own medicine. The past year might have soften his heart, but Magnus remained a pirate, and if the birth of it had been the result of a felonious manipulation of the Clave, he had embraced the title gladly, after a while. Sebastian had no idea what storm he had unleashed.

Isabelle sighed heavily, running a hand through Max’ unruly hair. “It’s going to be alright, Max,” she said. “If we can’t get the throne back, at least we’ll get Alec out of there.”

“Okay,” Max said, but the doubt was audible in his voice even to Magnus.

Max was only eight, but he had been through too much already and the skepticism he was displaying was only him protecting himself from more disappointment and more pain in the future. Magnus knew that, but it didn’t prevent his heart from thrumming against his ribcage.

Heaving, Magnus quickly walked away to get to his own room. With Ragnor gone and Jace catching up with Clary, he had the room to himself and he welcomed the tranquility as he laid down on the bed, shutting his eyes.

In the quietness of his room, there was nothing distracting him from the ache of remembering how Alec had looked on that balcony, how he had flinched in pain when Sebastian had touched him, how the skin of his wrist had been scarred with a mark he had done nothing to deserve.

It wasn’t hard for him to remember how painful it had been to have his wrist marked with the same daunting letter. He could still picture the wicked pleasure the commodore had taken in burning his skin, knowing full well who he was, and especially who his father was. Sometimes, when he really focused, he could still see his eyes gloating with deviltry.

Now, all he could imagine was a shade of green dancing in a sea of a brown shimmer, impossibly tender, undeservingly reverent.

Alec wasn’t here, but Magnus could feel his aura surrounding him, beautiful and strong, for he was never truly gone as long as Magnus would keep the feelings overwhelming him as raw as they were.

He glanced to the side at the empty space next to him, the bed cold and lonely. 

It had only been a couple of days, no more, but Magnus already missed being able to tangle their bodies together as they laid side by side, as much as he missed the smell of Alec lingering on the sheets and in the air everywhere he went. 

His heart was burning with a flame that had taken residence there from the moment they had parted, promising they would see each other at dawn, and it belonged there now, as it would for as long as they wouldn’t be reunited.

Magnus rubbed a finger on the empty space where the ring he had given Alec should have been, and let himself be lulled to sleep by the inward vow that he would get him back, whether he had to pay it with his life or not.

He had been asleep for what seemed to be barely ten minutes when the door burst open. Magnus startled out of slumber, eyes wide and hand already reaching for his sword before he recognized Jace standing there, looking disheveled and, most importantly, worryingly distraught.

“Isabelle is gone,” he announced, and Magnus’ stomach lurched. “She’s gone.”

.

Exhaustion creeped into his every muscle and bone, numbing even the foul smell in the cell, or the force of grief ripping at his heart relentlessly. He was too tired to weep, too feeble to fight, too dejected to hope.

When the gate opened once more, he couldn’t even find the strength to raise his head. He didn’t need to, though, because a strong grip grabbed ahold of his hair, and as expected, he was faced with a dark gaze and a vicious smirk.

“Oh, dear,” Sebastian breathed out. “You look terrible.”

“I’ve had better days,” Alec croaked out, fighting himself to keep his eyes steady and cold. “Have you come here to gloat again? Or would you rather torture me some more?”

He just wanted to sleep, for in his dreams, at least, Magnus was vibrant and alive, displaying proudly the devilish charisma Alec had thrived on. In his dreams, he was a free man still. It was a fleeting reality in this world, yet eternal in his mind.

“Something like that,” Sebastian said darkly. “But I can hurt your body as much as I want, it’ll heal. Your mind, though...”

He left the words hanging in the air between them, and Alec inhaled deeply. Magnus was already gone, there was no more harm to be done.

“What do you want?” he gritted out through clenched teeth.

“Merely to share a good news with you,” Sebastian quipped, so cheerfully that Alec was plagued with the sudden urge to free himself to beat the smile out of his face. “Isabelle and I are getting married!”

The air was knocked out of his lungs. Earth itself seemed to quiver around him, and his vision blurred at the edge with tears he hadn’t thought he still had the strength to summon.

“No,” he whispered, sounding more potent than he felt. “She escaped.”

“She did,” Sebastian said tauntingly, bringing a hand over his chest as if deeply moved. “But she came back last night. For you.”

“No,” Alec said again, awfully aware of the pleading edge of his voice. “You’re lying again.”

Something Alec couldn’t quite decipher flashed in Sebastian’s dark eyes and his hand shifted from his hair to cup Alec’s cheek instead, holding it up in a forceful grip.

“It’s a shame you won’t be there to witness it,” he said, with an apologetic pout. “She accepted to marry me in exchange for your freedom. Well, if exile can be called freedom. I said yes, obviously.”

Alec glanced up abruptly, eyes widening.

“To the marriage,” Sebastian clarified, his smirk curling deviously at the corner of his mouth. “You’re still being executed on Saturday. She wasn’t too happy about it, your sister, but I’ll make sure to cheer her right up once we’re married.”

Alec growled law in his throat, bouncing towards him, but the chains stopped him abruptly, clawing at his wrists. It made Sebastian startle and take a careful step back nonetheless.

“What was it you said?” Sebastian mused, tapping a finger against his chin in false reflection. “Use that courage to make sure my brother and sister stay away from the castle? Well, I guess the people doesn’t love you that much, then.”

He winked, beaming, and Alec shook his head.

“You’re lying,” he murmured.

“I guess you’ll have to wait to know,” Sebastian said, shrugging. “It’s a shame, really. We could have been brothers, you and I. If you hadn’t exposed my father and had him killed for the sake of a pirate, I could have shown mercy.”

“Keep your mercy,” Alec growled. “I don’t want it. Accepting mercy from you would dishonor the people that you killed in cold blood.”

Sebastian rolled his eyes. “Seriously, you are so dramatic,” he said airily. “It’s all politics, Alexander. You might have been king if you understood that.”

“You need conscience, moral and honor to decide what is right, not politics,” Alec retorted, although he knew full well he was wasting his time - he had a lot of it on his hands, though, and despite it all, arguing with Sebastian was still less bound to drive him into insanity than the loneliness of those cold walls. “They only serve to decide what can and cannot be done. But I don’t expect you to understand that. You think honor comes from the title you granted yourself, but true integrity is about honoring the title, not the other way around.”

Sebastian scoffed, pulling an annoyed face. “You’re just as boring as your father,” he complained, and a smirked curled at the corner of his lips as he stepped forward. “He was much less boring when I had him on his knees when I sliced his throat.”

Alec clenched his teeth, inhaling deeply.

“His eyes were begging but he couldn’t talk,” Sebastian went on. “He only had eyes for your mother. She was quite fierce, your mother. But in the end, she begged too.”

Alec didn’t reply, but the murderous glare he was directing at Sebastian probably spoke for itself.

“Your family ruled for a long, long time,” Sebastian whispered, stepping closer to dig a thumb into one of the cuts still baring Alec’s chest, over his dark shirt. “It’s time for Idris to say farewell to the Lightwood Dynasty. With time, people will forget about you, but they will remember the Morgenstern name forever.”

Alec snorted. “At least  _ you _ believe it,” he muttered.

Sebastian threw him a vicious glare and bolted forward, smirking when Alec winced in anticipation, his whole body automatically shaking away.

“Maybe next time I’ll cut out your tongue,” he murmured, his thumb pushing hard against his wound. Alec bit the inside of his cheek not to growl in pain, trying as well as he could to keep a straight face. He could feel blood slowly dripping again, tainting his shirt. “That’s why I did to the ones in this castle who claimed loyalty to you only. They are much more obedient when they can’t talk about how great your father and your worthless family were.”

“You’re sick,” Alec breathed out. 

Sebastian shrugged, clearly unaffected. “Perhaps,” he allowed, his eyes darkening. “But at least I don’t lay with men like I should only with women.”

Alec rolled his eyes. “I do,” he said, deadpan. “And yet, I still consider myself a better ruler than the barbaric, capricious, psychotic descendant of a corrupted, violent man. I guess we’ll just have to agree to disagree.”

“I guess so,” Sebastian said through gritted teeth, but blatant wrath was flaring in his gaze. “At least for the few days you have left to live.”

He turned around without another words, waving over his shoulder as he walked out of the cell, whistling under his breath.

It seemed only hours had passed - but perhaps was it barely ten minutes - before the gate screeched again, and Maureen walked in, a cup of water and a plate where laid a few vegetables. It wasn’t much, but Alec was too hungry to care. She didn’t say a word as she fed him, her eyes cast downward, unflinching.

“Is it true?” Alec asked after a while, tilting his head as far as he could to catch her eyes. “Did Isabelle turn herself in for me?”

Maureen seemed to hesitate for a long time but eventually, she bit on her bottom lip and nodded, her eyes flashing with an apology she didn’t ought to give.

“Fuck,” Alec growled, despair clutching at his heart but only frustration and exasperation edging his words. “Fuck. Why does she never listen?”

“She thought she could save you, Sir,” Maureen said, and Alec was so used to her silence that it actually made him startle and pull out of his morbid thoughts at once. “She did the same thing you did when you turned yourself in to Sebastian while your friends got them out. She sacrificed herself for you, and it backfired.”

Alec pursed his lips, shutting his eyes. “I just wanted them safe.”

“And she wanted you free,” Maureen said with a shrug. She had gained in confidence, suddenly, but as soon as Alec met her eyes, she lowered hers again and frowned, as if mentally scolding herself. “Sorry, Sir. I didn’t mean to -”

“It’s alright,” Alec replied at once. “You were not disrespectful. You’re allowed to state your opinion. Trust me, I’ve taken and heard worse.” He gave her a half smile, gesturing with a wave of his bound hands at his body.

Maureen looked up again, eyes filled with tears. “I’m sorry, Sir,” she whispered. “I wish I could do something but he’s… he’s…”

“I know,” Alec said. “I won’t ask you to risk your life for me.”

Maureen shook her head. “It’s not about my life.”

It took Alec a moment to understand, but when realization dawned on him, he was hit with another violent urge to snap Sebastian’s neck with his own hands.

Of course it wasn’t about Maureen’s life. She wasn’t alone. She had a mother. A little brother. And Alec had no doubt Sebastian was enjoying threatening them - or worse - into obedience. He had admitted to it himself.

“Your family?” he asked in a whisper.

Maureen sniffed, wiping her nose with the sleeve of her woolen dress, and nodded.

“My mother tried to rebel, at first,” she said lowly. “She had been working in the castle for as long as your father was ruling and she had always been treated fairly. She was loyal to your family.”

Alec grimaced at the past tense, but didn’t dare to ask.

“Sebastian threatened to cut her tongue out,” she whispered. “When she didn’t stop, he did. She caught an infection and…”

She didn’t finish her sentence, letting the words hang in the air between them, but Alec didn’t need further explanation.

“I’m sorry.”

Maureen clenched her jaw. “I would love to help, Sir,” she confided in a small voice, “but I have to take care of my little brother now.”

“I understand,” Alec said softly. “Family always comes first.”

Maureen nodded gingerly. “I’m sorry,” she said, raising a genuine gaze to him. “About your parents. About your siblings. And about your pirate.”

“Magnus,” Alec corrected her, not unkindly. “His name was Magnus. And he was much more than a simple pirate.” This time, the past tense didn’t make him cringe. It made his inside scream and his heart burn with agony, the burden of loss and grief weighing heavily on his shoulders. Tears brimmed in his eyes. “He was the love of my life.”

.

“I should have known,” Jace growled, running a hand on his tired features. His eyes were darting everywhere, unfocused, underlined by dark rings, and his hair was a mess, blond strands peeking out in every direction.

In the year and some Magnus had known him, it was the most disheveled he had seen him, and considering they had travelled on a ship together, having sometimes to skip bathing for a few days or weeks, and that Magnus had seen what Jace looked like first thing in the morning, it was saying a lot.

“I suppose the protective instincts run in the blood,” Magnus sighed, leaning a comforting hand on Jace’s shoulder. “We both know Alec would have done the same.”

Jace scoffed, the corner of his lips tipping up. “He would have,” he admitted. “But now they’re both gone and I don’t even want to think about what that bastard is doing to them.”

“Then don’t,” Maia chimed in, her deep, smooth voice indisputable. “Think about how we’re going to free them and end Sebastian’s reign of terror instead.”

Jace nodded, and patted Magnus’ hand on his shoulder before straightening on his seat. “Alaric must have arrived by now, and Ragnor will probably get to Island Dumort soon. What can we do while we wait for news from them?”

“Freeing them is our priority,” Magnus said. “And I would love to kill Sebastian with my bare hands but I’m guessing having him executed according to your stupid laws would be better to assert Alec’s legitimacy once and for all.”

“The problem comes from General Aldertree,” Luke said. He was leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest and brows furrowed, looking every bit like the leader he had been before Sebastian had ripped that away from him. “Aldertree and Sebastian are one. If we take down Sebastian, we have to take down Aldertree, because he is the one who has influence on the guards. He’s the reason why they are following Sebastian’s orders, fear aside.”

“Aldertree will attend the execution for sure,” Simon said. “Not that there will be an execution to attend,” he added quickly, eyes widening. “I mean, we’re totally gonna save the day and free Alec.”

Magnus scoffed, the hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Absolutely, Salomon.”

“We will take care of Aldertree,” Maia cut in gravely. “What about the Clave? We have three forms of power in Idris: the sovereign, the army and the Clave. We can get Alec’s throne back unless we take over all three of them.”

“I can deal with the Clave,” Luke replied, nodding sternly. “Lady Imogen is hard to deal with but she is a woman of traditions, but she puts the law above all. She clearly doesn’t approve of Alec’s sexuality but I’m certain she approves even less of Sebastian’s disregard for every rule and law the Clave has ever put in place.”

“The guards will be mostly deployed on the main square for the execution,” Lydia said shyly. “So I think it would be no trouble for Sir Luke to sneak into the castle. Imogen will not attend the execution because she’ll have to prepare for Lord Morgenstern’s coronation afterwards. You can try to talk to her.”

Magnus glanced at her. He had almost forgotten about her. She had been quite discreet ever since she had come with them after their almost fiasco. She only talked when addressed first, and when she did, it was only to get straight to the point. Clearly, she wasn’t completely comfortable among them, but Magnus could relate. He had felt the same when Alec had first introduced him to his family, over a year ago.

“What about Madzie and Max?” he asked, trying to keep his mind away from Alec. He needed to keep a clear head if they wanted to build a solid plan. “Someone has to stay with them.”

“I’ll take them with me,” Clary said as she walked in, arms full with a basket of fruits and vegetables from the market downtown. She pulled her hood off and smacked Jace’s hand when he reached for an apple. “I’ve only started to learn how to fight since Sebastian overthrew King Robert, so I don’t think I’m skilled enough to come with you on the front of the battle, if battle there is. I’ll be in the crowd, but far away for Madzie and Max not to see anything. I just think it’s better if we stay away from the safe house, in case anything goes wrong.”

Magnus rolled his eyes at Jace’s pouting. “It’s a good idea,” he said. “But make sure to really stay away. If things go wrong, you need to be able to get away quickly.”

Clary nodded, nudging Jace’s shoulder playfully. He looked up, a smirk tugging at his lips as he grabbed her hand to press a kiss in her palm.

His eyes met Magnus’ when he pulled back, and Magnus leaned back in his chair, quirking an eyebrow as he bit on an apple.

“Hey!” Jace protested. “How did you get that?”

“I stole it while you were too busy whining for anyone to pay attention to me,” Magnus replied with a smirk, winking. “The art of distraction, dear. Thanks for your help.”

Just as he said the words, his eyes widened with realization, in perfect synchronisation with Jace’s.

“Holy shit,” he breathed out. “I know how to do it.”

“It pains me to admit it,” Jace said on the same tone, “but you’re a fucking genius.”

“On a scale of one to ten, how dangerous is that genius idea?” Simon asked dubiously.

“Around seventeen,” Magnus said matter-of-factly. “And there are a few variables. It’s very risky.”

“I love it already,” Maia exclaimed, slamming both her palms on the table, leaning towards Magnus. “Let’s hear it.”

.

Alec expected his next visitor to be either Sebastian or Maureen. He had grown accustomed to Sebastian’s taunts, and to Maureen’s wariness so he was fully prepared for either when the gate screeching pulled him out of his boredom - he had spent the last minutes, or hours, counting the number of waves crashing against the shore he could hear echoing through the long, empty corridor that led to the dungeon where he was locked up.

Instead of them, there was a man standing in front of him. He was tall, with light brown skin, long black hair and deep, intelligent dark eyes that bore straight into Alec’s with little to no heed. There was a leaf-shaped mark on one of his cheeks, starting right below his eye, so Alec knew he came from the Seelie land, right beyond the hill that overlooked on Alicante.

“Your Majesty,” the man said, bowing his head in greeting. His voice was soft, melodious like the songs his people wrote to praise the nature, but his gaze sharp and unwavering. “My name is Meliorn. I am a knight of the Seelie court and I will be your executioner tomorrow. I came to pay my respects.”

Alec nodded, heaving out a deep, relieved breath as Meliorn reached out to unfasten the chains around his wrists, freeing him. Alec tried to massage the soreness out, but his wrist lanced with pain and he quickly pulled his hand away, walking to lean against the wall and glance over Meliorn’s shoulder for an opportunity to escape.

There were two guards posted in front of the cell, both armed, and Alec had nothing but his bare hands and his body, drained by the position he had been held in for what seemed to be an eternity.

He quickly came to the conclusion that attempting to make a run for it would just exhaust him more and be utterly vain.

Meliorn respectfully bowed his head again, extending a hand with a small pouch made of pleated, colorful fabric.

It had always been an odd tradition, in Alec’s eyes. A monarch being executed didn’t happen very often in their kingdom, but when it did, it was tradition for the executioner to be picked among the knights of the neighbors of Alicante’s courts and for them to present the future casualty with a gift they would carry on the day of their execution, as an offering to whatever gods they believe in to seek forgiveness for their executioner.

Alec had never been much of a believer, but it struck him, somehow. Meliorn offering him that gift was also him sealing his fate, making his execution the next day just that much more concrete.

He was going to die.

Swallowing hard despite his dry mouth, Alec reached out to grab the pouch, ignoring the tremor of his fingers, and cleared his throat.

“My fate lays in your hands,” he recited, the words tasting dull in his mouth. “May you find peace and forgiveness in times behind.” He paused, his eyes boring into Meliorn’s abidingly. “If your conscience can carry the knowledge that a tyrant had you do his dirty work and condemn a whole kingdom to darkness,” he added through gritted teeth.

A small, barely noticeable smile curled at the corner of Meliorn’s mouth, and his eyes flickered with an almost bemused spark as he took a step forward.

“I hadn’t realized you were a fatalist,” he said.

“Well, I haven’t had much reasons to hope, lately,” Alec deadpanned, gesturing vaguely to the cold walls of his cells.

“A dash of hope in the darkest times can bring many twists to what we deem inevitable,” Meliorn said, in an enigmatic tone that made Alec frown in confusion, and a hint of annoyance.

“I’m going to die tomorrow,” he sighed. “I don’t have time for Seelie riddles.”

“Time has a way of fooling even the most pragmatic of us,” Meliorn replied, and Alec simply glared.

Instead of answering, he focused on opening the pouch, and let its content slide into his palm. It felt heavy for something so small and when he looked down, his breath caught in his throat.

“I talked to Lord Morgenstern,” Meliorn eluded. “I managed to convince him to let you die with it. He seemed to think it was a good idea, but I presume his intentions were not as commendable as my own.”

Alec stared at the signet ring in his hand. The blood stains had been washed away and there was nothing left to testify of Magnus wearing it once. Even in the darkness of the cell, it glimmered, the gold catching what little light it could.

“I’m -” he muttered, but stopped himself, throat tight. “Thank you,” he said, and his brows knitted together as he realized what it meant. “Your gift is supposed to bring you forgiveness and salute,” he said, hoarsely. “It’s supposed to come from you, but you’re giving me something that belongs me from the start. That offering won’t bring you absolution.”

“I think it might,” Meliorn said, with a small, cryptic voice that matched his smile. “And if it doesn’t, I will find my absolution elsewhere.”

Alec pursed his lips, but nodded, sliding the ring back on his finger. It felt heavier than it had before.

“Your Majesty. I will see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Alec breathed out, and frowned when Meliorn started to walk away. “You’re not -” he started bewilderedly, but quickly cut himself off.

When Meliorn turned back to face him, an eyebrow curved in inquiry, Alec gestured gingerly to the chains hanging from the ceiling, silently asking why they weren’t back around his wrists already.

“I’m a knight,” Meliorn said, chin held high as he stared at him, “not a torturer. And you’re a king. You don’t belong in chains.”

He walked out without another word and Alec collapsed against the wall in relief, stretching his legs in front of him. He shut his eyes, leaning his head backwards, his fingers playing idly with the signet ring.

The Seelies had many beliefs. Alec had studied them as a child and for a long time, they had fascinated him. They believed strongly in the afterlife, and in a beautiful one, too.

Perhaps it was what Meliorn had meant by hope.

Perhaps Magnus and he would meet again, in that eternity that would belong to them, and to them only.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One would say this chapter ended on a hopeful note.  
> Others would disagree but meh.
> 
> Yelling happens on tumblr [@lecrit](http://lecrit.tumblr.com/) and on twitter [@_L_ecrit](https://twitter.com/_L_ecrit) ❤
> 
>  
> 
> Next chapter will be up next week!
> 
> All the love,  
> Lu? Satan? Whatever.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello cupcakes,
> 
> Please note that the rating has changed from M to E.  
> You're welcome.
> 
> Happy reading!
> 
> Ps: if you feel like gracing me with your live reactions, please use the #lecrit hashtag ;).

The gallows was erected just outside the castle, on the main square of Alicante that gave on the various roads that led to the shore on one side, the market on another, and the hill leading to the Seelie land on the last one. It was a sunny day, but as cold as it was to be expected in the middle of a harsh winter.

Alec had been able to wash in the morning - because Sebastian didn’t want the people to see how badly he had treated the rightful heir - and had been given new clothes - still black, and although it was a color the sovereign usually avoided, which was certainly why Sebastian had chosen it, he was more than fine with it. It seemed fitting.

Whether it was for that particular day or for the way Alec had been slowly crumbling, however, he didn’t know.

When he stepped outside of the castle, Alec allowed himself to take a deep breath, filling his lungs with fresh air, pushing past the nostalgia as the maritime fragrance from the nearby sea surrounded him at once.

Meliorn was standing there, in his complete executioner attire but the mask that would cover his face later, a deep brown armor that belonged to the Seelie land. Clearly, Sebastian was trying to display to the people that he had already started to gain the blessing of the Seelie land of Idris. To many, it wouldn’t seem like much, but the Seelies constituted one of the most powerful allies of the royal family by military force, and Sebastian thrived on the fear he ignited, so it made perfect sense.

Maureen let go of Alec’s arm as they arrived outside. It wasn’t that she was escorting him - she wasn’t a guard, and she was frankly petite enough that Alec felt like he was rather escorting her - but he had almost collapsed of exhaustion when he had stepped out of the bath and she had held onto him ever since, offering him a semblance of dignity by not letting how feeble he truly felt show.

It wasn’t truly his body, he had realized when he had pulled himself back on his feet. It was his mind. The loss he had suffered had been too great, and his sorrow reflected in his every move, hurting more than his remaining wounds and injuries.

“Your Majesty,” Meliorn said, with a sense of courtesy that Alec found heedlessly cold, considering the circumstances.

Alec didn’t reply, brow furrowed stubbornly.

They walked to the front door of the castle in silence, and when they opened to let them through, Alec startled. If it wasn’t for the guard urging him forward, he would have stopped in his tracks at the sight of the crowd that had gathered on the main square. He didn’t know if they were there out of morbid curiosity, utter dislike towards him or if Sebastian had ordered for them to be present, but his stomach lurched all the same.

Tipping his chin up, Alec shared a quick glance with Meliorn before he pulled his mask over his face, and motioned for Alec to climb the stairs of the gallows.

Alec did, keeping his shoulders square and his eyes sharp as he faced the crowd. They were oddly silent, staring at him like they expected him to burst into a speech that would bring them some kind of hope, but Alec’s mouth was dry, and asking a condemned man to talk about hope was vain.

He remained impassible for as long as he could, but the mask quickly fell.

As his eyes darted over the crowd, they stopped on the royal rostrum that had been set up on the other side of the square, and his eyes found his sister’s.

Isabelle was sitting next to Sebastian, and the equally desperate and angry expression she was sporting was enough for Alec to know it wasn’t on her own will.

He didn’t know what force conjured him to do it, but his eyes had softened upon seeing her, trying to convey all the comfort he could muster, and he held a hand up to wave at her. From the distance, he could perceive how she scoffed tearfully, either amused or exasperated, although she waved back nonetheless.

The crowd watched their exchange with dumbfounded expressions, but no one - not even Sebastian - dared to speak a word for a few seconds, allowing them that short moment just for them.

It was short-lived, of course, because Sebastian couldn’t bear to be a decent human being for too long.

Clearing his throat, he rose to his feet and, in turn, waved at Alec mockingly.

“Alexander!” he exclaimed.

Alec didn’t reply, showing him one carefully chosen finger instead - just one. A gasp waved through the crowd, and Alec was almost certain he had heard a chuckle somewhere in his back.

Sebastian glared at him and Alec could read the pure hatred dancing in his dark eyes despite the distance. Dismissing him with a nonchalant wave of his fingers, he readjusted his belt, turning toward the crowd.

“The kingdom of Idris is our home. Our heritage,” he proclaimed, his snarling voice booming in the otherwise quiet square. “And we’ve let it be degraded and doomed to devastation by the Lightwood sovereigns for too long!” He paused, his eyes darting over the crowd before settling on Alec again. “They corrupted our traditions and our laws. They tried to force on us their dubious morals. They laid with the enemy.”

Alec rolled his eyes, but kept his mouth shut.

“Today, we put an end to their disastrous reign!” Sebastian went on. “Today, with Prince Alexander’s execution, we open the door to a new world.”

It was funny how men could use the excuse of creating a new world to actually preserve the old one with all its faults and flaws, Alec pondered to himself, mustering as unimpressed of an expression as he could.

“With his death,” Sebastian exclaimed, “we build a better Idris for our children. I am your king, and I will not rest until we’ve wiped our kingdom from the scums our former leaders befriended. I am your king, and I will not betray you.”

Alec scoffed, but no one seemed to hear him. Sebastian turned to face him, his chin held up high and a smirk curling at the corner of his lips. He motioned for Meliorn to get ready, and Alec’s breath hitched in his throat at the sound of his sword being pulled out of its sheath.

“It is time, Alexander,” Sebastian said. “Any last words?”

Alec straightened up on his feet, his jaw flexing, his shoulder tugged into a tensed line, his eyes sharp and steady as they settled on him above the crowd.

“Any man who must say ‘I am the king’ is no true king at all,” he said.

Sebastian’s gaze blazed with wrath, but he ignored him completely, turning his head towards Meliorn instead. “Knight,” he said callously. “Proceed.”

Meliorn nodded sternly and grabbed Alec’s elbow, too gently for what he was about to do.

“Your Majesty,” he murmured. “Remember: a mere dash of hope can be enough.”

Alec scoffed, and let himself be guided to the center of the stage and down on his knees. “Yeah, I’ll make sure that this is the only thing I think about in my last minutes alive,” he hissed, voice dripping with sarcasm sharper than Meliorn’s blade.

He couldn’t see his face, but Alec could imagine the ghost of a smile on Meliorn’s lips when he settled at his side, sword planted between his legs, both hands on the grip.

Alec lowered his head, fidgeting with the ring around his finger.

“We’ll be together,” he murmured to himself, shutting his eyes. “We’ll be together. We’ll be together. We’ll be together.”

It seemed to be awfully long. He had imagined that Meliorn would be merciful enough to make his death quick and painless, but time was dragging and the more it did, the more Alec could feel cold dread spreading in his whole body, sending a wave of shivers down his spine.

“We’ll be together,” he repeated, just as a loud crash resonated through the whole square, tearing a collegial cry of surprised terror from the crowd.

Alec startled, his head jerking up and immediately finding Isabelle’s on the other side of the main square. She looked shocked, too, but her surprise and the reminiscence of her anguish quickly vanished to be replaced by a knowing, and utterly satisfied smirk. Somehow, it was enough to alleviate some of Alec’s qualms.

“Excuse me for the quite brutal interruption,” a familiar voice exclaimed and Alec had to tilt his head to perceive where it was coming from. It seemed to echo against every flat surface around him and although it was unmistakably Jace’s voice, Alec had no idea where he was.

Sebastian snapped his fingers towards a group of soldiers who immediately dispersed through the crowd, his eyes darting everywhere and nowhere.

“You can’t stop this, Sir Jonathan!” he exclaimed. “Surrender now and no harm will come to you.”

Jace’s laughter echoed and now it seemed to come from somewhere behind Alec. “Call me cynical but somehow I doubt that,” he replied. “How about you surrender instead and we’ll make your execution for treason quick and painless?”

Sebastian snorted, crossing his arms over his chest. “It’d be much more impressive if you weren’t on your own.”

This time, Alec was certain his brother was somewhere in his back.

“Still more resourceful on my own than your entire army,” Jace said, and before anyone could understand where he had come from, he leaped on the gallows and kicked Meliorn off, sliding a dagger out of his pocket. He quickly strode the distance amidst Alec and him, kneeling next to him.

“Do you know where you are going with this?” Alec asked warily. “His guards are surrounding us.”

“And while they surround us, who is blocking the entrance?” Jace whispered with a sly smirk. “Are you okay?”

Alec gave him a quick nod, as Jace pulled him to his feet. “I will be once I’ve lodged an arrow right between his eyes,” he gritted out, motioning at Sebastian with a jerk of his chin.

“Your bow and quiver are on their way.” Jace winked, and somehow his characteristic nonchalance, especially in the face of danger, wasn’t as infuriating as it had once been. It was alleviating then, and it brought Alec the dash of hope Meliorn had insisted on.

“You are surrounded,” Sebastian called from the rostrum on the other side, his voice layered with wrath and malice. “Sir Jonathan, step down of the gallows and please be quiet while we proceed to the execution. General Aldertree will escort you to your cell.”

Jace smirked, and winked at Alec again as he found himself manhandled by a couple of guards. He managed to injure one with his dagger, but two more were grabbing his arms the next moment and he was immobilised. His arrogant demeanor wasn’t affected, however, even as he was dragged down the steps.

Alec furrowed his brows and watched silently as Meliorn climbed back on the gallows. The mask still covered his face but somehow Alec could imagine the annoyance he sported beneath it.

“Knight!” Sebastian yelled, his jaw twitching with annoyance. “Proceed. Now.”

Meliorn moved at once, sending Sebastian a quick nod. There was an ethereal grace to his movements, one Alec hadn’t noticed before, and when he reached out to touch Alec’s shoulder and push him back to his knees, his fingers brushed against the skin at the nape of his neck. A long shiver ran down his spine and Alec frowned, his breath hitching in his throat. He had barely touched him, but it was soft, and caring somehow, and Alec had almost forgotten what it felt like in the past few days.

Meliorn straightened up on his feet and inhaled deeply, raising the sword above his head as he prepared for the lethal strike. Distantly, Alec could hear Isabelle crying, asking for mercy, and Jace’s protests. He had looked so confident, but perhaps something had gone wrong, and Alec was really going to die.

He shut his eyes, and forced his body to ease in acceptance. “We’ll be together,” he murmured to himself.

He heard the hiss of the sword going down, but it didn’t cut at his neck like it was supposed to. Instead, the rope bonding his wrists was sliced and the two guards standing on the gallows swiftly driven away by the threatening glow of the blade.

Alec’s eyes widened as he watched whom he wasn’t so sure to be Meliorn anymore risk his life for his own, but he quickly gathered himself and jumped to his feet to help, kicking the remaining guard down.

Then, he stared bewilderedly at the masked figure, his heart thrumming in his chest as the man reached down to pull the mask out of his face. His breath caught in his throat, and Alec barely suppressed a sob at the sight of Magnus’ blinding smile.

“I’ve always wanted to say I had rescued a prince in distress,” he quipped, winking, and quickly ripped the rest of the executioner’s outfit, revealing his pirate attire underneath and Alec’s bow and quiver tightly strapped to his back. He quickly pulled them off, throwing them to Alec, who caught them mid-air, eyes still blown in shock.

He couldn’t even focus as a voice that his brain vaguely identified as Maia’s yelled “now” somewhere in the crowd and the main square was suddenly invaded by a squadron of pirates and other scoundrels, immediately engaging battle with the royal guard.

“You -” Alec breathed out, swallowing hard. “You’re alive.”

Magnus blinked, turning away from the fight to glance at him. “Well, I couldn’t die when I still owed you for saving my life, could I?”

“I thought you were dead,” Alec muttered, cursing the tremor of his voice.

Magnus softened, taking a step closer to cup Alec’s cheek in his hand, gently stroking his cheekbone with his thumb. “I’ll die with you, or I’ll never die,” he murmured.

Alec heaved out a relieved sob and closed the gap between them, smashing their mouths together. He was vaguely aware of the collegial gasp of the crowd, but the world around him quickly faded away. There were no more clash of steel against steel, no more prying eyes watching the rightful king reuniting with his lover, no more impending threats of being separated again.

There was only Magnus, steady in Alec’s quivering arms, passionate against Alec’s lips, alive despite Alec’s deepest fears.

Magnus pulled back more quickly than he would have wanted, and winked at him, lips curled into a smirk. “Let’s kick that bastard’s ass, my love,” he murmured.

Alec nodded, his grip tightening on his bow, and he rushed down the steps, Magnus on his heels. The square had turned into a battlefield, pirates fighting guards, commoners gathering against the walls to avoid the fight but watch it unfold nonetheless. 

On the other side of this conundrum, Sebastian stood tall on his feet, his mouth dropped in shock and his jaw tight with anger. Guards were protecting him - and Isabelle, Alec noticed with relief - but he had his sword out, and his eyes were blazing with an obvious desire to use it.

“Your Majesty!”

Alec startled, turning around to see Ragnor, back to back with a smaller, dark-skinned woman, fighting a squadron of guards just by the two of them and, surprisingly or unsurprisingly, besting them all.

“Nice to see you,” Ragnor told him, swiftly grabbing the sword of a fallen soldier and throwing it to him. “Sorry we couldn’t come sooner. The trip back from Island Dumort was bumpy.”

Alec kicked a guard’s chest as he bolted towards him, using the leverage to push him towards Magnus, who gave him the fatal blow and immediately moved on to their next opponent.

“How did you manage to make all those pirates fight for me?” Alec asked breathlessly. “I represent everything they hate.”

“They hate Sebastian more,” the dark-skinned woman said. “And I’m sorry, sweetheart, but they’re not here for you. They’re here for  _ their _ king, and he called in for a favor.”

She winked at him, pointing at Magnus with a jerk of her chin, but he was too busy fighting to pay attention to them. Alec followed her gaze and lost himself for just a second in his observation, watching as Magnus avoided a ponderous blow aimed at his head in a graceful motion, and retaliated twice as strongly, effectively knocking out his opponent.

Alec smirked proudly, and shrugged, focusing back on his own fight. “You’re Catarina, aren’t you?” he asked, slaying another guard and pushing forward towards the royal rostrum. They weren’t so far anymore, and soon he would be close enough to settle his feud with Sebastian, face to face.

She chuckled. “The one and only,” she said, effortlessly getting rid of her own assailant. “Nice to meet you, Your Majesty.”

“Likewise,” Alec said. “I wish it had been in more joyful circumstances.”

Catarina scoffed, and although her gaze never wavered away from the guard attacking her, he could almost picture her dismissing his comment with a flourish, not unlike Magnus’. “You’re in a relationship with Magnus Bane, dear,” she said. “I didn’t expect to finally make your acquaintance in normal circumstances. He has a flair for the dramatic.”

Alec snorted.

“I heard that,” Magnus exclaimed, gracefully landing in front of them, “and I resent it!”

Alec had no idea where he came from, but Magnus’ fighting style was unconventional to say the least - and yet exceptionally efficient - and seeing him fall seemingly from the sky was oddly fitting to the situation.

“He says while dance-fighting his way to freedom,” Ragnor deadpanned. “You’re the most excessive and theatrical person I’ve ever met.”

“Hey!” Magnus protested. “I thought we were supposed to stop Alexander’s execution, not attend mine. If I had known, I would have skipped it altogether.”

Alec chuckled, feeling somehow lighter and happier despite the chaos surrounding them. Catarina wasn’t wrong. Meeting one of Magnus’ closest friend in these circumstances wasn’t all that surprising, but nothing they had done together had ever been conventional or orthodox, so it made sense.

He wondered if Sebastian knew exactly what storm was coming for him, how badly he had angered the wrong people.

“Fuck,” Alec panted. He didn’t know how he had ended up back to back with Magnus, the two of them seemingly moving together in a lethal dance, but he felt invincible, whole again after days of darkness, grief and wandering. “I love you so much.”

Magnus swirled him around in a swift movement, slipping his arm under Alec’s to dig his blade in one guard’s stomach, while Alec quickly used his bow to send an arrow right in another’s chest. Magnus sent him a playful smirk and dropped a scarce peck on his lips. “I love you too,” he murmured, before turning around again.

“Could you at least pretend to be decent?” Alec heard Jace yell from somewhere on his left. “We’re in the middle of a battle.”

Magnus huffed in affront, but didn’t have the time to answer.

“Stop fighting,” Sebastian’s voice roared above the capharnaum. Alec spared him a glance, and went completely still.

Sebastian was standing on the rostrum, Isabelle tucked forcefully against his chest, his arm around her waist while he was holding a knife against her throat, his dark eyes glimmering with madness.

“Stop fighting or she dies,” he hissed menacingly.

She tried to fight, but he digged the blade deeper into her skin, a thin crimson stride trickling down her neck. Alec drew an arrow, and nocked it to the bowstring, aiming straight at Sebastian’s head but unable to clear a shot that would leave his little sister unharmed.

The battlefield went quiet, the clangor of swords dying away.

“Let her go,” Alec said. “I’m not going to let you harm another member of my family.”

“You think you could stop me?” Sebastian taunted, a challenge in his cold eyes. “Like you stopped me from killing your parents?”

“I wasn’t even there,” Alec replied, turning his gaze to Isabelle. She was looking right back at him and she raised an eyebrow in an unspoken inquiry.

Alec’s lips twitched at the corner.

“Yes, because you were too busy eloping with a wanted criminal!” Sebastian exclaimed, darting a look full of fury at the crowd. “You need a king who can figure out his priorities!”

“I went on a diplomatic mission for the sake of the kingdom,” Alec groaned. “I signed deals and business promises that will keep Idris thriving for the next decade. And Magnus is not a wanted criminal. The Clave trials found him innocent.” He inhaled deeply, casting a quick look at his lover by his side, who was quite clearly attempting to burn holes in Sebastian’s skull with his eyes. “He is a free man.” Glancing back at Sebastian, he stood tall on his feet, readjusting his hold on the bowstring. “He has a letter signed by the king to prove it.”

“I am the king!” Sebastian howled. “I decide who is free and who is not.”

“You’re nothing but a sick, mad man,” Magnus sighed. He took a step forward, gesturing behind himself at the people, and the troops that had stopped fighting. “You’re done, Morgenstern. Let her go and accept your defeat.”

“Never,” Sebastian growled, his attention never wavering from Alec. “We have evidence to prove you manipulated the Clave into finding your pirate innocent.”

“Actually,” Ragnor chimed in, clearing his throat, “you have fabricated evidence.”

He took a step forward to stand next to Magnus. His face had been grimed by the fight, dust and sand soiling his hair, but none of that managed to take from the potence of his posture. “By the same woman who has been doing the Morgenstern’s dirty work for many years. And I’m sure Iris Rouse would have no qualms in confessing everything once she realizes she is as cornered as you are right now.”

Sebastian’s jaw flexed.

“Like the time you had a little girl’s parents murdered after Iris told you they were growing suspicious of your father’s schemes,” Ragnor concluded, curving an eyebrow in defiance. 

Sebastian paled, his mouth opening and closing. “You can’t prove anything,” he blurted out, far too hastily to be remotely believable.

“We can,” Magnus argued, murder in his eyes as he glared at him. “We tracked Iris back to her house, and we’ve found more than enough evidence there about your father, your and a few other notables of the court’s corruption.” He smirked then, but it was cold and unapologetic. “That’s the thing with fear, Sebastian. It makes people wary. And when people are wary, they defend themselves. So Iris kept track of every single thing your father and you had her do for money, including falsify evidences to make it look like King Robert was the corrupted one. But that’s only one part of it, and the list is quite long.”

Alec paid no attention to Sebastian’s reaction, although he could picture it clearly, focusing on Isabelle instead. She looked angry, and determinate, and a glance from her was all it took for Alec to know.

He gave her a quick nod, and just as Sebastian was opening his mouth to answer, she smashed her foot on his toes, and her elbow in his stomach. He howled in pain, momentarily disoriented. Alec didn’t waste a second, letting his arrow fly and lodge itself in Sebastian’s shoulder, and he fell to the ground with a dull thud.

This time, it was a shout that slipped out of his mouth, a noise of pure and simple pain, and Alec felt a sick sense of satisfaction twist in his stomach at the sound. He grabbed another arrow, ready to put an end to Sebastian’s - and his - misery, aiming right between his eyes, but before he could release it, a soft hand settled in the crook of his elbow and he froze, quickly turning his head to look at Magnus.

“Don’t,” Magnus said softly, for Alec’s ears only. “Your people is watching.”

“He deserves it,” Alec gritted out through clenched teeth. “He deserves worse.”

Magnus nodded in agreement, and tightened his hold, just slightly enough to provide the anchor Alec so desperately needed.

“He does,” he allowed. “And you need to show that you are better than he is. That you can show mercy when he is incapable of it. That you are the king they hope for, not the one that is forced upon them.”

Alec flexed his jaw in irritation, his eyes darting back to Sebastian, who was now surrounded by a group of pirates or guards who had swiftly changed of side when they had realized it was the logical thing to do. His dark eyes were a mirror of rage, but there was something else there, shock and fear meddling together.

When he didn’t reply, Magnus slipped his fingers from his elbow to his shoulder, leaving a burning trail along his arm. “My love,” he murmured, “I would love to let you do it, and I would love even more to do it myself, believe me, but your people is afraid, and the Clave has been forced to play by his rules for over a month now. You need to reassert its authority. Let them put him on trial. And show your people you are stronger than he is. That you don’t give up your morals and your soul for revenge.”

Sebastian’s hand was curled around the arrow lodged in his shoulder, his features gnarled with pain, his fingers already painted scarlet by the blood spilling from the wound. His eyes were skimming everywhere and nowhere, searching for help but finding none.

In that moment, he looked nothing like the ruthless sadistic torturer Alec had known, and every bit like a scared child whose toys had been taken away from him and stomped on with combat boots.

Alec’s lips twitched with disgust as he lowered his bow. “Just take him out of my sight,” he said, voice baring a strength he had thought long gone. “Before I change my mind,” he added under his breath.

Sebastian struggled as two men - a pirate and a guard, and it was impossibly startling if he really thought about it, but Alec was too tired to do so - grabbed each of Sebastian’s arms to drag him down the rostrum and towards the castle. They stopped somewhere in the middle of the crowd and a murmur waved through the crowd.

Alec craned his neck to see the reason for the sudden agitation. In the middle of the mass of people stood Luke, arms crossed over his chest and lips pulled into a tight line, and Imogen Herondale, her gray eyes dull and cold, her hair tucked into a tight bun that only added to her stern demeanor. By their side, Maia and Simon were holding a distraught General Aldertree captive.

Sebastian opened his mouth to talk - or to beg, perhaps - but he shut it abruptly when Imogen stepped aside to open the way to the castle’s dungeon, a faint smirk on her lips. He started to protest, but his angry shouts were quickly covered by the brouhaha of the crowd.

Alec paid attention to none, turning towards Magnus. The adrenaline from the fight was quickly deserting his body, and the exhaustion from the past days of being famished, parched and beaten was taking over. Magnus seemed to read as much on his features because he took a step forward and slid an arm around his waist to support him.

“Hold on, darling,” he said, voice trembling with worry. “Just a little bit longer.”

The crowd was already dispersing, urged away by pirates and guards alike, but Alec could barely concentrate long enough to discern their faces.

“Magnus, I’m going to pass out,” Alec warned him.

“I know,” Magnus replied, motioning for Jace to come and help him. His hand brushed along his back, soft and soothing. “It’s over now. You’re safe. Just try to stay awake while we get you inside the castle. Can you do that, love?”

Alec nodded, knowing full well it was a lie. He let himself be manhandled by Jace, who sneaked under his other arm to prop him up. 

“Come on, buddy,” Jace said, pushing him gently as he led the way to the castle.

He reached under the black, loose shirt he was wearing and grabbed the signet ring that was hanging from the chain Meliorn had given him the day before, pulling it over his head and into Magnus’ hand.

“Next time I give you a ring, try not to lose it,” he mumbled, but it held more humor than he had thought himself capable of.

“Next time you say I’ll see you at dawn, be there at dawn,” Magnus retorted, his fingers closing tightly over Alec’s, the jewel locked between their hands.

Alec snorted, and moved to the side to lean further into Magnus. “I wouldn’t want to arouse the pirate king’s anger,” he muttered teasingly.

“You can arouse the pirate king anytime you want,” Magnus retorted.

“Come on,” Jace sighed. “You knew he would go there.”

“Of course I did,” Alec mumbled.

Or at least, he thought he did. The world around him swirled into darkness, leaving behind only Magnus’ concerned voice, and a lingering scent of citrus.

.

Magnus had never loved Alec’s hazel eyes as much as when they opened a day later and settled on him, heavy with the relics of his slumber and the same relief they had displayed when he had seen Magnus’ face on the gallows.

“Hey,” he croaked out, a small, tired smile on his lips.

His fingers twitched gingerly and Magnus reached out immediately to grab his hand, dropping a soft kiss on the back and sitting on the bed next to him.

His chest was a canva of faint and deeper cuts, the skin still sporting an ugly red at some places. A burnt pirate mark was etched over his hipbone, grisly blisters scattering the skin. A nasty bruise was already fading around his throat but they were still a raging shade of purple around his wrists.

“Hey,” Magnus breathed out, swallowing hard. “How are you feeling?”

“Not like I’m dying anymore,” Alec said. “So I guess there’s progress.”

Magnus urged back the tears that soared to his eyes, clenching his teeth. He gave a quick nod, unable to form a proper sentence that would express the emotional whirlwind he was going through, a mess of relief, the reminiscence of fear, and guilt.

“Magnus,” Alec growled disapprovingly. “Stop that.”

He frowned. “What? I’m not doing anything!”

“You have that face.”

“I do,” he fired back. “It’s my face. You usually are quite fond of it.”

Alec rolled his eyes. “Still am,” he grumbled, throwing him a pointed glare. “I know you better than I know myself. This is your guilty face.”

Magnus stared back stubbornly, lips pressed together, and despite the tiredness still pregnant in his gaze, Alec refused to budge, just as adamant if not more.

Eventually, he heaved out a deep breath, and laid down next to Alec on his side, their fastened hands resting over his heart, steady under Magnus’ palm.

“We were there, with Jace and Maia,” he confessed lowly. When Alec raised a confused eyebrow, he sighed again. “When Scumbastard showed you off from the balcony like some circus freak. You looked so… defeated. It broke my heart.”

“I thought you were dead,” Alec replied, turning on his side to face him properly. “Scumbastard -” there was the hint of a smile on his lips, “- told me you were dead. He had the ring. I… I guess I was foolish enough to believe him. And it was hard to fight and stay strong in a world that you weren’t a part of.”

“But you did,” Magnus whispered, squeezing his hand in reassurance. “You were so strong, Alexander.”

Alec hummed absently, interlacing their fingers together. “How did you do it?” he asked softly. “I am absolutely certain it was Meliorn under that mask. I saw his face before we went out of the castle.”

“Luke and Jace told me about your traditions, how a member of the royal family couldn’t be hanged like any commoner, so I figured Sebastian would ask the Seelie court,” Magnus clarified, rubbing his thumbs along Alec’s knuckles. “They’re your most powerful allies, so it made sense for him to reach out to them. I’ve known Meliorn for many years and he owed me a favor. When Jace pushed him off the gallows, everyone was too focused on him to see me take Meliorn’s place or Maia and Simon knock out a couple of guards to clear one of the entrance to the main square.”

“Smart,” Alec said absently before shuffling closer, a proud smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “I’m under the impression my whole kingdom owes you favors. How many lives have you lived, dearest?”

“None that truly mattered until you came along,” Magnus replied, lowering his voice to a smooth whisper, revelling on the blush that flowed to Alec’s cheeks.

Alec groaned, scooting forward to bury his head in Magnus’ neck. Magnus chuckled and pressed a kiss against his temple, gliding his fingers in his hair, stroking lightly.

“Your siblings really want to see you,” Magnus murmured against his ear. “Madzie, too.”

“Give me just a little longer alone with you,” Alec demanded, tightening his hold around Magnus’ waist, nuzzling against his jaw. “What about Iris?” he asked softly. “Is she really gone?”

“Don’t worry about Iris, my love,” Magnus said, humming in content when Alec dropped a fluttery kiss against his neck. “I’m taking care of her personally.”

Alec scoffed, warm breath sending chills to Magnus’ skin. “Do I want to know?”

“Don’t worry,” Magnus said again, a teasing edge to his voice. “I’ll follow my king’s example and I’ll be merciful. Or something close enough.”

“I’m not your king, since you apparently are one yourself,” Alec said, pulling back slightly to press a peck to Magnus’ lips. “And you never listen to me anyway.”

“We pirates tend to do that,” Magnus retorted, and kissed him again, longer, with enough ardor that Alec parted his lips at once, a tiny gasp escaping him as their tongues met.

Magnus melted into Alec’s form, pressing himself against his torso, feeling his heart beat within his chest, singing a melody Magnus’ knew to the slightest nuance.

Leisurely, his hand running up and down Alec’s - scarred as well, although more sparsely - back, Magnus let the tension of the prior week seep away from his shoulders, nipping at Alec’s bottom lip. Alec groaned low in his throat, kissing him harder, oozing of desperation and roughness that brought Magnus relief his heart could barely hold.

There was something urgent, almost frenzied, in Alec’s movements as he reached down to tug on Magnus’ shirt with persistence, a silent and vehement demand in the frustrated sound he made when Magnus pulled back just long enough to comply and pull it over his head.

Alec crashed back against him instantly, latching his lips on Magnus’ neck but Magnus pulled back, grabbing his face between his hands, gazing straight into the hazel, blazed with desire and adoration.

“Magnus, I - I need you,” Alec croaked out, his eyes glassy and desperate, as if he couldn’t quite believe Magnus wasn’t a reminiscence of an almost forgotten dream. “Don’t go again.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Magnus replied, trailing his thumb along his already swollen lips.

Alec’s mouth painted a small, comforted smile and he nodded before enveloping him into his arms again, lips finding their way from his temple to his collarbone, leaving a burning path in their wake.

They came from two very different worlds, but all at once, there was nothing to Magnus’ whole universe but Alec kissing, touching, nipping at his skin and exploring every naked inch of his body with his mouth. Finally, he forgot about everything else, about the fear that had plagued his mind for the days they had been apart, about the scars on Alec’s body that would certainly stay, about the image of Alec, feeble and hopeless on that balcony, that was implemented into his mind.

Magnus let go of the control he had so carefully held onto, letting desire overpower his senses and numb everything else. His fingers etching in Alec’s hair, he abandoned himself to the sensations of his mouth wrapping around him and the roughness of his beard against his thigh, his other hand digging in his shoulder, a litany of curses and praises escaping him.

Drawing back, Alec traced his way up Magnus’ chest to his mouth, and then they were kissing again, holding onto each other, the divergences of their worlds trying to melt into one.

Magnus rolled them over, never parting away, his grip in Alec’s hair tightening just enough to keep them both grounded to a certain reality, although it was their own.

It was familiar, a dance of their bodies they had mastered throughout a year of tentative exploration at first, learning the curves and lines of one another, growing more accustomed to the other every time until there was nothing left to discover and all the more to thrive on.

Alec opened up under Magnus’ mouth and tongue like he had many times before, his eyes falling back into his eyelids, hands gripping at the headboard and digging into the wood, moans ripping out of his throat like a prayer to gods that had betrayed them both.

It was a different atmosphere from the one they had known on the ship, rocked by the sometimes calm, sometimes preposterous cadence of the waves, their benighted effort only guided now by the blowing of the wind outside.

Rolling back on his back, breath heavy, Alec pulled Magnus into a heated kiss, hands roaming over his skin, worshiping ever sharp lines and scars time had left.

“I love you,” he said in a broken whisper, wrapping his legs around his hips.

Magnus quavered as if an earthquake had suddenly shaken the surface of their world, strong and deliberate. “I love you too,” he said, resting his forehead against Alec’s as he pushed in slowly.

Alec gasped against his lips, breath hitching in his throat and he leaned up to kiss him, fingers carding in Magnus’ hair to hold him there, as close as possible.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Magnus murmured again, holding himself on his hands to glance down at him.

Alec nodded faintly, eyes glassy with pleasure but somehow appeased. Satisfied, Magnus drifted down to mouth at Alec’s jawline and neck, his hand reaching down to readjust Alec’s strong legs around his hips, pushing deeper inside him.

Alec called out his name in a broken sigh, an intoxicating sound that spurred Magnus into moving his hands to Alec’s hips, tracing the curves of his abs, brushing his thumbs over his nipples, settling his left hand over Alec’s heart and the right one travelling higher to stroke his arms and end its course in Alec’s, hooking their fingers together.

He kissed him again, and they were lost in sea, breathing only thanks to each other, and Magnus never wanted to step on land again.

Later, when Magnus collapsed against Alec’s scarred torso, both of them heaving laborious pants out, he murmured, once more, “I love you,” and Alec’s voice was trembling when he ushered the words back at him.

Then, he talked. Magnus pressed hard against him, arms wrapped around each other, Alec told him about his ordeal, the physical torture and worse - his words - the emotional one in thinking -  _ believing _ \- he had lost the love of his life to a tyrant who had already taken from him his parents, his crown and his pride. He told him about Maureen, her timid gentleness that had kept him grounded and about hearing Jace’s voice in the crowd and holding on to that hope, albeit thin.

And Magnus listened, no matter how many times his heart broke or his head screamed at him to just march down to the dungeons and end Sebastian’s miserable life himself.

When he was done, the night was starting to retire, darkness succumbing to the dark blue sky and orange clouds of the dawn of a new day.

Just as surely as he knew they would witness the luster of the golden path painted by the rising sun from the shore to the horizon, Magnus knew they would be happy for every other morning they would see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love you too.
> 
> I'm on tumblr [@lecrit](http://lecrit.tumblr.com/) and on twitter [@_L_ecrit](https://twitter.com/_L_ecrit).
> 
> The epilogue will be up soon ;).
> 
> All the love, ❤  
> Lu.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello cupcakes!
> 
> Thank you all so much for the support, the love and all that lovely shit you cupcakes do that makes me super emotional.
> 
>  
> 
> #lecrit if you want to live-tweet the epilogue.

It was already midday when Alec walked into the throne room, feeling properly rested.

The room was quiet, illuminated by the few rays of sunshine coming through the windows, shaping a path of light to the throne. The chair was carved of the finest oak in the kingdom, crested with a few jewels. Alec had always looked at it with wide eyes, wondering what it would feel like to sit there and assume the role he had been born to endorse.

His father had looked majestic in his throne, filling the space with broad shoulders and an imposing allure, and although Alec had grown to be taller than pretty much everyone in the castle, he had always felt little when faced with his father sitting there.

With a nostalgic sigh, he stepped closer, running his fingers on the wood. It belonged to him now, and he wasn’t sure he could do it justice like his father had, but he knew he would try, as hard as possible, to be the fair king Robert had wanted him to be.

“Alec!”

He barely had the time to turn around before Isabelle was crashing into him, tearing a surprised huff out of him. He relaxed immediately, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and resting his cheek on the top of her head.

She didn’t say a word, simply tightened her hold on his waist, but she didn’t need to. Alec knew.

“Where’s Magnus?” she asked instead, failing at hiding the tremor of her voice.

Alec inhaled sharply, unable to claim any better. He cleared his throat, pressing a kiss against her hairline before he pulled back. “He had an errand to run,” he said.

“What kind of errand does a pirate run?” Isabelle inquired, curving an eyebrow. “Khôl? Rum?”

“I don’t think it’s that kind of errand,” Alec retorted, snorting.

Her face was a mask of suspicion. “You don’t know, do you?”

Alec shrugged, reaching out to ruffle her hair. “He’s a free man,” he said. “I don’t monitor his whereabouts.”

Isabelle rolled her eyes, seemingly aware that this wouldn’t get anywhere, but quickly recovered her composure, squaring her shoulders. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay,” he said at once. When Isabelle threw him a pointed glare, he frowned. “I’ll be okay,” he sighed. “I slept well, so at least I’m not exhausted anymore.”

Isabelle reached out to press her thumb against his neck. “Yeah,” she snorted, sarcasm dripping of her voice. “It looks like you got a lot of sleep.”

Alec pushed her hand away and smacked his own against the mark on his neck, cursing inwardly as he felt his cheeks heat up.

“I did,” he grumbled.

Isabelle smiled knowingly, taking his other hand to squeeze it lightly.

“I’m glad we’re together again,” she said. “And that you found someone who makes you happy.”

Alec sent back a sheepish smile and ran a hand on the nape of his neck, lost for words. Before he could confirm, the doors of  the throne room opened again and in came Clary, followed by Max and Madzie.

His little brother ran to him and, much like Isabelle had, crashed against him, circling his legs with his arms. Alec chuckled and squatted down to embrace him properly. His brain couldn’t formulate a proper thought, flooded by an overwhelming sensation of relief and warmth, accepting this familiarity, this love as his one and true birthright.

When he drew back, he glanced to the side at Madzie, who was standing a few feet away from them, shuffling with the carved panther in her hands, her head bowed timidly.

“Hey, princess,” Alec called out softly. “Come here.”

Madzie looked up slowly, lips pressed together, but she walked to him without a word, stopping right between his legs, as close as she could without actually touching him.

Alec looked down at her hands, only to see the panther he had carved for her had found a companion, a tiny handmade figurine of a pirate that he knew belonged to Max.

“Cool pirate,” he said. “What’s his name?”

“Magnus,” she replied, on a tone that suggested it should have been obvious. Her brows furrowed as she blinked at him. “Is Nana coming back?”

Alec grimaced, heaving out a deep sigh. “I don’t think so, sweet pea.”

When she didn’t reply, he cocked his head to the side to catch her gaze, and it was disappointed but somehow serene.

“Would you like to stay here in the castle with us?” he asked gently. “You could follow Max’ lessons with him. I can teach you how to carve wood.”

“And I’ll teach you how to fight,” Isabelle chimed in. She rolled her eyes when Alec glared at her. “In a couple of years. Or more. When you’re old enough. Chill, big brother.”

“I can share my toys with you,” Max offered.

A light blush bloomed on Madzie’s cheeks, and she smiled timidly, nodding slightly.

“It’s all going to be okay,” Alec told her, and he believed it.

.

The moonlight creeped through the wooden windows when Magnus stepped into what had been Maia’s inn, catching on dust floating in the air. Chairs and tables were turned upside down, as if a storm had raged inside, a testimony of how Sebastian had desperately tried to get to them after they had slithered Isabelle, Max and Luke out of the castle. Smashed glass was scattered down the floor and the inn, once full of life and animation, was now deserted. All but for the sounds he could hear coming from upstairs.

Flexing his jaw in irritation, he slipped his dagger out of its sheath and carefully made his way up, as silently as physically manageable. It came from the room next to the one that had once been Simon’s and when he stopped in the threshold, it was without surprise that he found Iris there, throwing everything she could put her hand on in a duffel bag.

“I’m pretty sure this jacket belongs to Maia.”

Iris froze and although she facing away from him, he could almost picture her eyes widening.

Slowly, she turned around, gulping. “Magnus -”

“Save it,” he said callously.

“I just want to get Madzie back and I’ll be gone,” she said, her rushed voice a perfect contrast to her petrified posture.

Magnus scoffed, lifting a dubious eyebrow. “And you needed to pillage what’s left of Maia’s inn for that,” he deadpanned.

She opened her mouth to answer, but closed it immediately, surely knowing she would just condemn herself further. “How did you find me?”

“You’re not half as clever as you think you are,” Magnus replied. “But twice as vile.”

“I did what I had to do to survive,” Iris said.

Magnus took a step closer, twirling his dagger between his fingers. “You did what you did out of greed,” he countered. “Don’t kid yourself. And probably a dash of guilt, too, considering Madzie’s parents died because of you.”

“I love Madzie,” she argued.

“You turned her parents in to Valentine and had them killed because Valentine had promised you a reward,” Magnus said, not bothering to hide the disgust in her voice. “You’re as responsible for their death as he is. If not more.”

Again, she was left speechless, and Magnus took the opportunity to study her. Her hair was a mess, loose strands framing tired features, her eyes darting everywhere and nowhere, unable to settle on something that would help her out of the situation she had gotten herself in.

She leaped to the side to grab the first thing she could put her hand on to defend herself. It was an empty bottle and she smashed it against the wall to make a weapon out of it, holding it out, desperation written all over her face.

Magnus rolled his eyes, unimpressed, and wondered in a corner of his mind when exactly he had caught on that habit that was once all Alec’s.

“You’re a coward and a spy,” he said, “but I could easily let that go. I did some despicable things myself, once. Greed is a poison, and it can get to your head before you understand you’ve let it consume you. I’ve seen it happen.”

Something flashed in Iris’ eyes. “So you get it,” she exclaimed, but it was more of a question.

“I do.” Magnus nodded, and took another step forward. “I really do.”

He moved swiftly, grabbing her wrist to pull her forward and disarm her in a same movement, and she barely had the time to heave out a surprised breath before he had her against the wall, his dagger dangerously close to cutting her throat.

“I do understand,” he hissed. “And that’s because I do that I can’t forgive you. Because I know you could have made a better choice, but you chose to betray us anyway. And because you did, Alexander had to endure the manic games of a mad man.  Because you did, I had to watch the man I love suffer while I stood there, powerless. And I can’t forgive that.”

“I-I’m sorry,” she stammered, eyes wide with fear. “I’m sorry. Sebastian threatened -”

Magnus tutted, shaking his head, and she closed her mouth abruptly. “No more excuses, dear,” he said with an olympian calm that contrasted drastically with the raging fire burning through his veins. “Lucky for you,” he added, watching, unmoved, as a thin trickle of blood ran down her neck where his dagger was pressing, “I have learned recently that showing mercy to your enemies is not a mark of weakness, but a proof of one’s betterness.”

With these words, he stepped backwards, releasing her. She took a deep breath, her hand shooting up to her neck, her face still contorted with fear and wariness.

“You will leave Alicante today, and Idris as soon as you can,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument, “and you will never come back. If I ever hear word of you stepping in this kingdom again, I will find you and you will wish that you hadn’t. Walking the plank is an atrocious way to go.”

She nodded quickly, and the fact that she didn’t try to ask for the opportunity to leave with Madzie only comforted him in the rightness of his actions.

Magnus lifted an eyebrow, holding out a hand. “And I’m gonna need everything you stole back,” he said. “I know Maia is quite fond of that jacket.”

Iris threw the bag in his hands and he opened it, casting a dubious look inside. He glanced back up, pointing at the shoulder bag she had strapped around her shoulder. “That one, too.”

“That’s - that’s mine,” she breathed out. “That’s all I have left.”

“Is it? That’s a shame,” he replied, a mask of boredom painting his features. “But I’m sure Maia would appreciate the gesture. After all, her inn was destroyed because of you.”

When he didn’t give a single hint that he would cave, she swallowed hard and hesitantly held out the second bag.

Magnus took it without a second thought, scanning its content. It was filled with money and jewelry, more than enough to cover for the damages that had been perpetrated by Sebastian’s men. 

He pulled the bag over his shoulder, throwing her an annoyed glance. “What are you still doing here?”

Iris startled, and she fled through the door without another word or a glance back.

“Witch,” Magnus hissed between gritted teeth, putting his dagger back on his hip.

The air felt like a revigorant breeze as he made his way back to the castle, blowing in his back to guide his steps, and if anything, Magnus had always trusted the wind to drive him home.

.

Sebastian’s trial was held throughout the next couple of weeks and Luke reinstalled in his rightful place as head of the Clave. General Aldertree’s trial was conducted in parallel by Lady Herondale, who didn’t try to protest, fully aware that forgiveness had only be granted to her because she had been more passive than an operating force in Sebastian’s coup d’état.

Sebastian was found guilty of every crime he was accused of, and the list was longer than Alec had imagined, although the king and queen’s murder would have been enough to have him sentenced to death anyway.

Unlike the day of Alec’s own aborted execution, the sky was charged with massive, gray clouds, veiling the sun and blocking any source of light. By the time they had settled on the main square, some of them had turn a deep, unforgiving charcoal, reflecting in the bit of sea they could see from the royal rostrum, hollering with dangerous waters.

Standing on the gallows, his hands bound together by heavy chains, Sebastian’s lips were pulled into a tight line, his eyes darker than the skies above.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to do it after all?” Magnus murmured at his side while Luke started listing Sebastian’s crimes and sentence, pulling Alec out of his thoughts. “It’d be my pleasure. Hell, it would be an honor. What I’m trying to say is: I really want to kill the bastard myself.”

A faint smile painted Alec’s face as he turned towards his lover. “We already had this talk, dearest,” he said softly. “He betrayed the crown. The crown has to enact its punishment. And well, I am the crown.”

“Technically, your coronation ceremony is tomorrow,” Magnus argued, but it was playful if anything. “I could do it.”

“Magnus,” Alec scoffed, not half as admonishing as he had hoped for.

“You suck the fun out of everything,” Magnus sighed with a dramatic flourish.

Alec smirked suggestively. “Maybe later.”

Magnus chuckled, but stopped abruptly when Jace cleared his throat next to them. “We’re kind of in the middle of something,” he said, half amused and half reprimanding. “And Luke is almost done.”

As if on cue, Luke turned away from the crowd to face Alec, giving him a quick nod.

Clearing his throat, Alec rose to his feet and grabbed his bow and arrows when Simon held them out to him with a reverent bow of his head. Alec smiled and patted his shoulder, before facing Sebastian.

His dark eyes were already boring into Alec’s, daring and unapologetic all at once.

“Lord Morgenstern,” he called out, placid. “Any last words?”

Sebastian straightened on his feet, and there was a challenge in his gaze when he spoke, “Who’s your king?”

Alec rolled his eyes, nocked an arrow to the bowstring, and let it fly all in a swift movement. The arrow lodged itself right through Sebastian’s chest, where his heart would be quick to stop beating.

“You wouldn’t like the answer,” he said, loud enough for only the people surrounding him on the rostrum to hear, barely sparing the man a second look as his head sagged forward and his body went limp, held only by the ropes keeping him bonded to the wooden pole.

Then, he turned towards Magnus again, and if his words hadn’t been clear, he was sure his devoted - mushy, Jace would call it - look was.

Magnus, as always, had no trouble reading right through him and he flashed him a surprised smile, etched with a tenderness he reserved solely for him.

.

Alec walked out from his meeting with the Clave, drained but hopeful, and headed straight to the Great Hall.

Now that Luke had been reinstated, he had no doubt it would become the institution it had been meant to be from the start. Lady Herondale hadn’t been thrilled with the changes he had requested, but with both Luke and Alec against her, she hadn’t been in a position to negotiate much more than for her to remain in a leading position - although she now primarily answered to Luke - so she had caved relatively easily, her features tugged into a disapproving grimace that seemed to be her default expression.

The contrast with Luke’s benevolent and warm support was striking, and it had been more comforting than Alec had thought it would be.

Making his way to the Great Hall, he came to a stop in the threshold, his lips parting slightly in surprise at the scene in front of him.

The room was buzzing with cheerful chatter and laughter that echoed against the walls and the ceiling.

He had been away for a while, but he couldn’t quite remember a time where the Great Hall had been used for other purposes than serving a courteous dinner to lords and ladies visiting from the various, sometimes faraway lands of Idris.

Now, it looked like he imagined any dinner room in his kingdom must have looked - only bigger.

In a corner of the table, Isabelle was sitting with Maia and Simon, chatting idly with them as she picked in a bowl of cherry tomatoes. Next to them, Jace and Alaric were engulfing each a juicy steak and talking at the same time, all under the dubious but amused gaze of Clary.

On the other side of the table, Magnus sat with Madzie on his lap, Max bouncing on his feet with excitement in front of them. It was clear from the enthralled look of both children that Magnus was telling them another of his pirate’s tales. Sitting on both side of him, Catarina and Ragnor were punctuating his story with witty comments and enthusiastic nods.

Luke patted his shoulder, tearing him from his silent observation.

“I believe you’re in for a bumpy rule, Your Majesty,” he said with an amused smile.

Alec shrugged. “I look forward to it.”

Luke smiled that blinding smile of his, and Alec found himself smiling back easily.

When his eyes fell on Magnus again - naturally, in that way waves always ended up crashing on the shore - his eyes were on him too, and he winked, blowing him a kiss from afar. Alec gave a quick nod to Luke and closed the distance between them, dropping a kiss on his forehead.

“How did it go?” Magnus asked, grinning when Madzie held out her arms towards Alec in a clear request.

Alec obliged and picked her up, something warm tugging at his heartstrings. “Better than I expected,” he said. “All I need to do is convince Ragnor and Maia, and it’ll be done.”

Ragnor cleared his throat and straightened on his seat next to Magnus. “Convince me of what?” he inquired with a confused frown. “Your Majesty, with all due respect, if you do make him king, I am not being Magnus’ valet.”

Magnus gasped in affront, slamming a hand over his chest dramatically. “Are you saying you weren’t my valet all along?”

Ragnor grumbled under his breath, clearly suppressing the urge to call him a few colorful names for the sake of the children present.

Alec rolled his eyes. “I am not asking you to become Magnus’ valet,” he said before they could start bickering. “I wanted to ask you to become the crown’s sworn translator. I am going to need a man of your talents.”

Ragnor opened his mouth to answer, but the words didn’t come. For a while, he just stared at Alec blankly, but finally he smiled, bowing his head politely. “I’d be honored, Alexander.”

Alec smiled back, shifting Madzie in his arms so he could reach out and shake his hand.

“Look at the two of you,” a cheerful, witty voice chimed in. Alec turned toward Catarina as she pretended to fan herself with her hand to refrain from crying. “My babies, both in the King’s court. Children grow up so quickly.”

Alec was distracted of the sight of Magnus and Ragnor rolling their eyes in perfect sync by someone clearing their throat at the table.

Maia was leaning towards him, her face a mask of amiable suspicion. “What about me?” she said. “What do you have to convince me of?”

“To keep telling me when I’m doing things the wrong way,” Alec offered, and it sounded more like a question.

Maia curved an eyebrow. “You don’t have to convince me to do that,” she taunted. “I’m always happy to call you out on your bulls-”

“Bullshead!” Simon cut in hastily, throwing her a warning look, jerking his head towards Madzie and Max with wide eyes.

Maia cleared her throat. “On your bullshead,” she finished. “Right.”

Alec chuckled. “Actually, I meant it in a more… official way,” he clarified. “Someone told me  _ my kind _ has been deciding of rules and laws without caring how it affected the people for too long,” he said, his smirk matching Maia’s. “I thought maybe she might agree to help me correct that.”

“How so?” Maia asked.

“By joining the Council,” Alec said. “They happen twice a week, more if necessary, and I’d be honored to count you as a member.” He paused, his smirk widening into a lopsided grin. “As long as you promise not to punch me again.”

Maia laughed, her dark eyes shimmering with mirth. “Don’t ask the impossible, Alec. If you piss me off, I might end up disappointing you.”

Alec laughed with her. “Is that a yes?”

There wasn’t an ounce of hesitation in Maia’s nod, no more than there was in Alec’s as he nodded back, satisfied.

Then, his eyes turned to Simon.

“Congratulations, Simon.” He put Madzie down to rummage in his pocket, and threw a golden insignia at him. “Or should I say Commodore Lewis?”

Simon’s eyes widened as they settled on the golden badge in his hands.

“Oh my God!” he blurted out. “This is like so cool but also, I’m freaking out a little. What am I supposed to do? Can I hug you or do I have to salute? Should I bow?”

Jace heaved out a deep sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Seriously, how did you even become a Lieutenant when you know nothing of our decorums?”

“Well, maybe you lots made it way too easy to get in the Navy,” Simon retorted, before considering his own words. “I mean, not that I’m not worthy. I’m totally worthy. I’m a great Lieutenant. Commodore. Ha! I’m a Commodore now, you can’t boss me around anymore!”

Jace’s expression was the epitome of unimpressed. “I’m an Admiral, Lewis. I’m still your superior.”

“Technically,” Simon argued. “But I’m gonna have my own ship and you’re not invited so you won’t be able to give me orders.”

“I’m a member of the royal family, Simon,” Jace growled in exasperation, but it was too fond to fool any of them. “I can do what I want. If I want to get on your ship, I will.”

Simon whirled around to face Maia. “Seriously, why did you punch Alec? He’s the nice, thoughtful one, living his beautiful, groundbreaking love story with the pirate king. You should have punched him,” he exclaimed, pointing an accusatory finger at Jace.

“That can be arranged,” Maia said, and judging by the way Jace simmered down at once, he believed her.

Alec turned away from them, letting them argue like they tended to do, and slipped his hand into Magnus’, who was now standing next to him.

“Walk with me,” Alec said lowly.

Magnus nodded, and let Alec guide him out of the Great Hall and through the corridors all the way to the gardens.

There was an ethereal beauty to the place, surrounding on one side by the sea and on the other by the grey stones of the castle, polished by the time. The smell of the sea meddled with the one of nature and although the winter had killed the otherwise colorful beds of flowers, even the naked trees looked majestic enough to provide a sense of peace to whomever wandered in these alleys.

On top of the highest tower of the castle, the Lightwood flag had been reinstated, and somehow, the sight alone managed to bring a smile to Alec’s lips.

“So,” Magnus said, his hand warm in Alec’s, “you’ll be made king officially tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” he said, shrugging. “I had always imagined I would be older by then. That I’d take my father’s place because he had died of natural causes, not…  _ this _ . This feels weird.”

Magnus squeezed his hand, running his thumb over Alec’s knuckles. “He’d be proud of you.”

His voice was calm and confident, and Alec found himself nodding faintly. “Mother would have hated all of this,” he said with a fond, nostalgic smile. “Having two pirates and the owner of a downtown inn in the Council. Oh, her reaction would’ve been priceless.”

He chuckled at the mental picture, but Magnus stopped him by pulling lightly on his hand until Alec turned around to face him.

One of his eyebrows was lifted in inquiry. “Two pirates?” he echoed, with a confused look. “Ragnor and?”

There was a slight smirk tugging at his lips, and Alec scoffed, letting go of his hand abruptly, but only to step forward and fold his arms around him instead. Magnus made a surprise noise in the back of his throat but he quickly recovered, melting against Alec.

“I thought I’d ask that guy from Catarina’s crew?” he said teasingly against his ear. “You know, the one with the talking parrot and an eyepatch?”

“Crabcakes?” Magnus huffed out, pulling back and hooking his arms around Alec’s neck, toying with his hair. “Please, the guy is so dumb Ragnor and I once managed to convince him that his name genuinely was Crabcakes.”

Alec snorted, biting on his bottom lip with a sheepish look, and Magnus smirked, leaning it to kiss it instead.

“I’m gonna need a diplomatic advisor in the Council,” he said, tightening his hold around Magnus’ waist. “And I know you have a kingdom of pirates to rule, Your Majesty, but if you want it, the spot is yours.”

Magnus hummed, and kissed him again. “You know that’s bound to make us fight, right? I’m not going to let you get away with being your stubborn self, darling, no matter how royal you are.”

Alec smiled, and he found that it was easy.

They had been through a lot, together. And they would have more challenges to face.

If the people of Alicante knew they were together now, the same couldn’t be said for the rest of the kingdom. Some lords from faraway lands would certainly offer their daughter in marriage, and wouldn’t take Alec’s rejection kindly, especially when they’d know the reason why.

They had to dissect every document they had found at Iris’ and put on trial everyone who had had anything to do with the Morgenstern’s corruption or Sebastian’s overthrow.

Alec had to try to fix somehow the damages Sebastian had done, starting with Maureen and her family, and then everyone else his raging folly had hurt.

And that was only the beginning of his rule, of a whole new adventure they were engaging in blindly.

But he knew, without an ounce of doubt, that all the struggles would be worth it, as long as he had the love of his life by his side.

Running his thumb along Magnus’ jawline, he smiled. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

And he kissed him again. And again, and again, until there was nothing left but the two of them huddled together.

Two kings, ready to face the world.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There won't be another sequel, fyi.  
> This is the end. *cue dramatic music*
> 
> Thank you again, you cupcakes are the sweetest cupcakes of all time and I love you.
> 
> Special love to [Ketz](https://twitter.com/Ketz_CML) for helping me plot this fic, and for being the best of wives.
> 
> And [Ace](https://twitter.com/everydayfandom), once again, I love you, babe <3.
> 
> See y'all soon!
> 
> I'm on tumblr [@lecrit](http://lecrit.tumblr.com/) and on twitter [@_L_ecrit](https://twitter.com/_L_ecrit).
> 
> All the love,  
> Lu.


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